The Tales of Los Almas
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Infamous Gypsy Jack Sparrow is on the run when he falls in love with white Indian, Golden Bear aka Hansel - Owen Wilson -, and becomes entangled in Salem Saberhagen's plot to save the world! 20 fandoms and adding! Slash and het. Full details inside.
1. Prologue

Title: "The Tales of Los Almas"  
Author: Pirates Sparrow and Turner  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Infamous Gypsy Jack Sparrow awakes alone with no clothes, no weapons, and no idea how he got to be in a saloon. As he continues running from the man who murdered his people, Jack falls in love with a white Indian who goes by the names of Golden Bear and Hansel (Owen Wilson) and becomes entangled in Salem Saberhagen's plan to save the world. Other characters also having their own adventures and finding their loves of their lives include, but are in no means limited to, Hansel's sister Faith; Cole Turner, the Demon trying to go good for the love of the Witch Piper Halliwell; Captain James T. Hook, who already has his beloved in Samuel Smee but must fight to keep their peaceful freedom; Doctor Hank McCoy, who is believed dead though very much alive; Robert Drake, the man mourning the good doctor and his treasured love; Will Turner, who seeks to put an end to the man who killed his family, who is the same man who killed Jack's, and shall find his love in a place beyond his wildest dreams; Lorne, the green-skinned Demon with the heart and voice of an Angel; Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, who sets her eyes on a Werewolf who she knows she can never dare to openly love; Jareth, King of the Goblins, and his wife Delvira, identical sister to Elvira and another purely evil; Dawson Leery, the greenhorn reporter who's just arrived in the West when he falls for gunwoman Faith; farmboy Clark Kent who's truly so much more; the city slicker he saves from certain death, Lex Luthor; Sheriff Sean Cassidy; his Deputies, Carlos Sandoval and Trent Malloy, who share much more than family; Wolf and Brendan, two Werewolves struggling to contain their inner monsters; bounty hunter Victor Creed; Logan, the thief Victor left behind and his daughters, Kitty Pryde and Jubilation Lee; highwayman Addamm (Adam Ant); the cursed Mad Hatter; his good friends, one of whom may be more than a friend, Cheshire Cat and Puss in Boots; Wizard Harry Dresden and the man he loves though he can not touch him, Bob; wild man Ace Ventura; and circus "freaks", Kurt Wagner, Piotr Rasputian, and Rahne Sinclair.  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: Slash, Het, Alternate Universe, Violence, Adult Sexual Content  
Word Count: 209,284 and going strong!  
Feedback: Yes, please! However, flames will be doused with a fine mixture of fireballs, lightning, energy balls, and Faith-itude!  
Archive: WWOMB, ; anywhere else, ask and I'll probably say yes  
Disclaimer: (PotC) Jack Sparrow; Will Turner; Joshamee Gibbs; Davy Jones; Bootstrap Bill Turner; (Zoolander) Hansel; Derek; (Angel/BtVS) Faith; Joyce, Buffy, and Dawn Summers; Lorne; (Dawson's Creek) Dawson Leery; (Charmed) Penny, Patty, Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and Paige Halliwell; Cole Turner; (Golden Girls) Blanche Deveraux; Rose Nylund; Coco; Sophia Petrillo; Dorothy; (10th Kingdom) Wolf; Blabberwort; Burly; Bluebell; King Radish; the Huntsman; (X-Men/Generation X) Robert "Bobby" "Iceman" Drake; Henry "Hank" "Beast" McCoy; Lucas Bishop; Remy "Gambit" LeBeau; Sean "Banshee" Cassidy; Emma "White Queen" Frost; Victor "Sabertooth" Creed; Rahne "Wolfsbane" Sinclair; Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner; Piotr "Colossus" Rasputian; Blob; Spiral; Mister Sinister; Avalanche; Pyro; (Elvira) Elvira; (Walker/Sons of Thunder) Trent Malloy; Carlos Sandoval; Cordell Walker; James Trivette; Alex Kahill; Sydney Cooke; Francis Gage; (Smallville) Lex and Lionel Luthor; Jonathan, Martha, and Clark Kent; (Step By Step) Jean-Luc Rieupeyroux; (Gilmore Girls) Lorelei and Rory Gilmore; (Special Unit 2) Carl; (TM7) Vin Tanner; Nathan Jackson; Chris Larabee; (Sabrina the Teenage Witch) Salem Saberhagen; Zelda, Hilda, and Sabrina Spellman; Drell; (Shrek) Donkey; Puss in Boots; Dragon; Piper; (Ace Ventura) Ace Ventura; (Music Videos) Addamm; (Alice in Wonderland) Mad Hatter; the Cheshire Cat; Imogene; (Labyrinth) Fieries; Jareth; Hoggle; Sir Didymus; Ludo; Worm; (The Dresden Files) Harry Dresden; Bob; (Peter Pan) Captain James T. Hook; Smee; (Kim Possible) Shego; Drakken; any other recognizable characters, unless otherwise specifically noted herein; Pirates of the Caribbean; Zoolander; Buffy the Vampire Slayer; Angel; Dawson's Creek; Charmed; Golden Girls; 10th Kingdom; X-Men; Walker: Texas Ranger; Sons of Thunder; Smallville; Step By Step; Gilmore Girls; Generation X; Special Unit 2; The Magnificent Seven; Sabrina the Teenage Witch; Shrek; Ace Ventura; Labyrinth; The Dresden Files, Peter Pan, and Kim Possible are ﾩ & TM their respective owners, not the authors, and are used without permission. Any recognizable songs mentioned are ﾩ & TM their respective owners, not the authors, and used without permission. Willow is ﾩ & TM himself and may not be used without permission. Trina Malloy, Markus, Doctor Brendan Richards, Big and Little Wild Cat, Cat, Tornado, Bessie, Tonto, Old Gopher, Sly Fox, Clyde, Kathleen "Kat" O'Hara, Jamey, Falisha, Delvira, and everything else, unless otherwise stated within the chapter contained, is ﾩ & TM the authors. The authors make absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Prologue**

The sun poured into the room, burning the solitary man's face until he began to stir. Jack sat up, blinking blearily around at his surroundings and scratching his head as though he had fleas. {Just where the Hell am I?} he wondered. He sure as Hell wasn't where he had been the night before, and his body hurt like he had been lynched again. He was naked, but that had never stopped him before from doing what he wanted to do.

He felt a touch of dizziness as he swung his bare legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He shook his head as he stood, trying to fight off the light-headedness he was feeling. He padded softly over to the window where the thin curtain rustled in the shifting breeze and peered out into the muddy street below. Again, he asked, his throat dry, "Where the Hell am I?" But no answer came.

Going to the door, Jack opened it and went out onto the stairs. His gaze scanned the surroundings below as the scents of musty ale, smoke, and uncleanliness wafted up to him. Bottles and tankards had been left on tables and a long counter, and Jack realized that he was in a saloon. The atmosphere was dingy and smoky, but there were no people around.

Jack yelled down to the emptiness, "If this be Hell, then where are you Demons hiding?" He had known they would come for him ever since his clan had been destroyed. Something deep within whispered that this was not yet the time, but it would not matter even if it were. "Show yourselves, you blighters, or be you afraid of me, the famous Jack Sparrow, the greatest Gypsy who ever lived?" Despite the fact that he was naked as the day he was born and had no weapon of any kind nor any clue as to how he had come to be in this strange place, Jack was not afraid. He stood tall, brave, and true, waiting for any to show, whether they be friend or foe.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Derek was standing just outside the batwing doors of his saloon, anxiously keeping tabs on the brewing fight while keeping guard over his wares. Let the people sneak into the other saloon in town and drink his competition out of the business, but they'd not get his alcohol for free! A loud commotion from behind him suddenly drowned out what was happening on the street.

What drunk had woken up now? Derek wondered. He didn't want to miss the fight, yet he had to see who was about to tear up his fine establishment or help themselves to the brewery. He tried to keep one eye on the street as he slowly turned his head to look back inside.

His mouth fell open in shock for there was a strange, naked man standing at the bottom of the stairs! What the Hell had Hansel drug home now, and why couldn't he keep his naked piece in his room?! Derek ran back into the room and faced the stranger.

* * *

At last some one had come to meet Jack's demands! Jack peered angrily at him. "Is that you, Satan?" he asked.

Derek recoiled in shock. "I was about to ask you the same thing! Who the Hell are you, and what are you doing in my tavern?"

"I don't know how I came to be here."

Derek looked at the man. "Do I know you?" He studied him quizzically. Perhaps if he'd had some clothes on . . . ? It didn't matter, he told himself; it was just another one of Hansel's drunk play mates. "You say your name is Jack Sparrow, and you're some sort of Gypsy?" Derek questioned, looking down his nose at the naked man before him.

"Never heard of you," he announced staunchly, "and I don't know what hole Hansel dragged you up out of, but please go upstairs and put some clothes on before some of my customers see you and become consumed with the vapors!"

How could Hansel bring home such a disreputable character?! Derek wondered as he watched the man called Jack Sparrow slowly swagger back up the stairs. Even as he stood and watched the naked Gypsy swaggering up the stairs, he knew why Hansel had picked him. He could definitely strut his stuff!

Derek felt like running out into the street and shouting Hansel's name, but with the two lunatics out there who were about to gun each other down in the street, that was the one thing he absolutely could not do. How dare Hansel let his latest piece run loose in the tavern with no clothes on! Wasn't it bad enough that his bitchy sister was always calling people out and pulling his audience out of the saloon? Didn't Hansel have any better sense than that, or had he been into his brownies too deeply again? He stomped outside in search of his partner.

* * *

Jack was shaken up from his encounter with Derek and knew not where to turn. The man clearly owned the saloon, and yet he had no idea of how Jack had come to be sleeping in his room! How had he come to be here? Who had brought him here?

He thought about going in search of Hansel, whoever that might be, to find out where Hansel had found him. Maybe he would have some extra clothes and an explanation of how he had come to lose his own? What had happened between the time he had been following his target into an alley and had awoken in this strange bed in a saloon he couldn't recall ever setting foot in before in his entire life?

Before he could go and knock on the door to the next room, he heard a soft purr and felt a small and furry body rubbing his ankles as it twined between his feet. A grin burst over his face as he looked downward. "Willow!" he gasped, reaching down and picking his kitty up.

"Where have you been? Thank the Goddess you have survived!" He then looked gravely down upon his cat as he asked, "What happened last night? Wish you could tell me what's been going on."

The only answer was a rumbling purr as the kitty cuddled into him. Jack carried him into the room and released him onto the bed. "How the Hell did I come to be here, Willow?" He sadly sat down on the bed and dropped his head into his hands.

Willow moved closer so he could touch Jack and try to offer comfort to his best friend. He had no answers. He had simply woken up in the alley, smelled Jack, and followed his scent. He had found his best friend and, therefore, had no worries.

Jack continued to stroke the kitty. "What shall we do for clothes, Willow? Derek says I can't come back out until I find some." The kitty's tummy rumbled, and Jack's answered. He had no idea when either of them had eaten last. "The first order of business, my friend, is finding me some clothes. Do you think we could steal any?"

Willow jumped down, walked back to the window, and peeked out inquisitively.

"You might find yourself a nice, fat, juicy rat down there, but you might also get into trouble. Stay with me, and we'll get something to eat when we find some clothes."

Willow scampered over to the bed and crawled underneath it. Jack got down onto his knees and looked under the bed so that he could rescue Willow from any dustbunnies that happened to be under there. The first thing he saw was a case of some kind and then Willow's glowing eyes. "Don't look at me like that, cat. You spooked me," Jack scolded Willow even as he pulled the case out from under the bed.

He opened it slowly, making sure there were no nasty surprises inside, and was stunned to find a case of women's garments. "Those will be absolutely no help at all!" he told Willow, closing the case and sliding it back under the bed.

Jack hesitated only a brief moment longer before walking quietly out of his room and looking down the hall. There was no one around. He knew he'd have to help himself find some clothes. Beginning at the end of the hall, he started trying the doors to the rooms. He left the unlocked doors alone, vowing only to return to them if he had to, before finally finding one that was unlocked and opening it hopefully. He walked inside the room and looked around. He checked over the bed and nightstand first before proceeding to rummage through the drawers but didn't find anything he liked.

Jack found the next unlocked room to be identical to the first except for a few possessions, but they were nothing to intrigue him or to put on his handsome figure to attract any one. He shook his head, the beads in his long, jet black hair twinkling. No clothes, no money. He'd already figured out he had no possessions of any kind as he had checked his room first and found it to be completely empty except for the trunk of women's clothing. Where had his things gone? If he could find Hansel, maybe he'd have the answers.

The next room he came to made him pause in the doorway in shock. It was as though he had found himself in Ali Baba's cave. Every single inch of the room glittered. Soft and shimmery things beckoned to be touched by his fingers from every possible space. He reached out, touched some of the things, and found them to be silky as well.

Must be a woman's room, he thought, pulling himself out of the bewitching call and turning to the dresser, but then he opened the top drawer and began to find men's things. What man would be in a room like this? he wondered. It wasn't that it didn't call to Jack to the point that he wanted to lay in the fancy, feather bed and continue to run his fingers over the silken draperies that seemed to be hung everywhere in the room, but he simply couldn't imagine the type of man who would live so openly with so many pretty things.

Slowly, forcing himself to ignore the call of the finery and focus on his main target, Jack pulled out a pair of maroon pants. Slipping them on, he found them to be a tight fit but not uncomfortable. He found shirts in the second drawer. The first one he picked up was a soft, yellow blouse with billowing lace ruffling down the front. Again, he wondered about the man who would wear such clothes. Was it a woman trying to be a guy?

He slipped into the shirt and found that it was cut, with no buttons, down to his navel. He picked up another shirt, but it, too, had the same cuttings. "Oh, well, he said put clothes on," Jack remarked with an impish grin. His gold tooth flashed at him in the mirror that was attached to the dresser.

A delicious aroma had met the hungry man's nose the moment he'd first entered the room, but he'd forced himself to ignore it until now. He finally looked around again, his dark eyes searching eagerly as he hoped to spy something to eat. On a nearby dresser was a small plate that appeared to hold a piece of chocolate cake. Jack closed in on it in a hurry, and upon closer inspection, realized that it was not cake at all but brownies that some one had already been nibbling upon.

Jack took one gingerly and brought it to his nose. His tongue darted out, and he tasted the deliciousness of fresh baked chocolate. He moaned his pleasure around the bite he chewed slowly, his eyes drifting shut. He hadn't had chocolate in so long! He took a second bite and chewed this one even more slowly, savoring each granule. It tasted like nothing he'd ever had before! He took another bite and then another and another . . .

Pretty soon, Jack didn't care for where he was or where Hansel was. His head had grown as light as a feather, and it was all he could do to take the few steps it required to reach the bed. The soft mattress seemed to welcome him as he laid down on the bed. The room was spinning, and a kaleidoscope of glittery golds, purples, pinks, blues, yellows, and silvers danced in his dark eyes.

What the Hell was in that? he wondered. His last coherent thought was calling Willow, who raced into the room, jumped on the bed, and looked contemptibly down at the clothes Jack was wearing. He mewed in protest but received no answer. Upon realizing that Jack had fallen asleep, Willow curled protectively up around the top of his head and settled in to wait.

He couldn't figure out why Jack was sleeping, but he wouldn't leave him. Sooner or later, some one would come. They always did. Sometimes they were good, but sometimes Jack had to take a bite out of them with his sword. Right now, he didn't have a sword, but Willow had twenty and he wasn't afraid to use them. A rumbling purr came from him even as Jack nestled closer into the bed with a contented moan.

* * *

The streets of the town were empty except for the two who were walking away from each other, but the sidewalks were crowded with throngs of people straining forward for a better look at the happenings in the street. Dawson made his way amongst the people, listening to their talking, asking questions along the way, and jotting down notes.

He could scarcely believe his good luck in that for his very first reporting job in the wild west, he was covering a real, live shoot out and not just any shoot out but one between a mere slip of a girl and a big, brutish, well-known outlaw called Brad Simpson. He didn't know what the ruckus was about, but the townspeople were clearly excited over it and the bets on the side of the girl were growing wilder and heavier.

Dawson kept looking from the girl to the man and wondering, {Why?} He hoped that the girl would survive as he thought she was a looker and would like to be able to get her opinion about the event. He knew the people back East would get a kick out of reading about the shoot out and hoped that he could do the report justice and be able to talk to the beautiful girl after it was over.

* * *

"They never learn, do they, darling?"

"No, never," Hansel answered the pale-skinned woman beside him with a mischievous grin lighting his handsome face.

Eyes that were as black as a moonless night peered over at his excited face as the woman asked hushedly, "Do you ever fear that she'll meet some one she can't handle, make the wrong man angry?"

"The wrong man? Pshaw!" Hansel laughed. "That'd happen about like her meeting the wrong woman! There's not a person in this world who can beat Faith!"

"THERE YOU ARE!"

Derek's voice suddenly bellowing behind Hansel made the blonde jump, but then he forced his nerves to calm as his blue eyes cast a glance over his shoulder. "Oh, there you are, Derek. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed again this morning, honey?"

Derek reached a finger for his collar and straightened it stiffly. "I told you not to call me that."

The woman next to Hansel cast a glowering look down upon Derek. He was far too straight-laced for her tastes, and if she hadn't been so desperate to sing, she probably would have blown him off the very first day she'd come into town. Hansel had offered her the job, however, and Derek had let her stay after seeing what a huge crowd her luscious body attracted.

She liked the job, and she liked the money. Hansel had grown to be a dear friend, but Derek . . . Her black lips drew up into a sinister grin as she thought of what she'd done to the guy who had been the last man to piss her off before she'd wandered into Los Almas. She'd like to see Derek burn.

A shot rang out, and all eyes turned swiftly back to the street. Hansel's face immediately became as pale as a sheet as a bullet whizzed at Faith's back.

Before he could even shout her name, however, Faith spun around, dipping just beneath the bullet that passed harmlessly over her dark-haired head, and fired. She didn't know why she had bothered to actually let the man talk her into a duel instead of shooting him dead on the spot when he'd spilled beer on her boot for this was exactly what usually happened when she did allow her enemies such a chance.

She grinned, her eyes dancing with what some of the townsfolk whispered was the Devil himself, as her bullet blasted into the middle of Brad's groin. His howl of misery played on her ears like music as he dropped to his knees. She danced out of the way of his final bullet before firing again and catching him dead between the eyes. She smiled as he landed face first into the dirt and blew the smoke off her pistol to a chorus of approving shouts.

Dawson yelled just as loudly as the rest of the townspeople were in a cheering roar, but none dared to touch Faith to pat her on the back. Not only was she beautiful, but she was deadly to the aim! he reflected as he finished scribbling the drawing he had made of her. He would have loved to have congratulated the girl, but the way that she had snarled at every one who got near to her, he didn't dare. Maybe later she'd be in a better mood and he could approach her on the subject?

Now he just stood and watched as she made her way over to a blonde-haired guy, whom he heard, with surpirse and regret, her call "Blondie bear". He followed over and stood a short distance away, hoping to get a chance to talk to her or just have a chance to watch her longer. He had not seen a woman that intrigued him as much as Faith did ever before in his entire life! What he would give to be able to spend one night with her! He listened, hoping to get to hear something.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Standing in the doorway of his grocery store, Cole leaned against his broom. It was over finally, and he breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that Faith had survived yet another shootout. For the life of him, he could not figure out why the girl constantly sought out danger.

Behind him he heard giggling, and he turned around just in time to see Phoebe trying to display her goods in the window as the townspeople began to disperse. "Miss Halliwell, step down from there immediately and please put your shirt back on!" he demanded, his face growing red. What was wrong with that girl?! She seemed to want to spend more of her time out of her clothes than in her clothes!

If her sister thought for one moment Cole had actually gotten a glimpse of Phoebe, despite the fact that he didn't want to catch one, he'd never get a chance to get near her. "Ah, Piper Halliwell!" he breathed softly to himself. "Such a beautiful woman! She'd never look at you any way, boy. You've got nothing to offer her. Ah, but just one night would be enough to grant a man Heaven for the rest of his life!"

But Phoebe?! Please! She was nothing but a child and did not excite him in any way! He wanted to walk over and snatch the girl out of the window. He requested her to come down again and was surprised to see that she was actually coming down rather quickly. Then he heard the melodious voice of the one he had just been thinking of calling for - her sister. He busily began to sweep the dirt from his store again and pretended not to see Phoebe.

A thousand fell short of the number of times Piper Halliwell had regretted bringing her sisters out West, but they'd had no choice, she reflected sadly yet again. The only way they had had to run was West, and it had either been to escape to the unknown or die. She could never have allowed that to happen, and losing her mother and grandmother had nearly taken the heart out of her. What she had left, Piper devoted solely to caring for and protecting her sisters. Paige was thankful, though she didn't always know how to show it, but Phoebe . . .

Piper sighed as she hurried up the boardwalk. She just didn't know what to do with Phoebe any more! Grasping the younger girl's wrist a little more tightly than she intended, Piper hissed, her own face as red as Phoebe's untucked blouse, "Phoebe Halliwell, do you not have any respect for yourself left?! It's bad enough that you've taken to . . . to . . . " The awful word was on the tip of Piper's tongue, but she still couldn't bring herself to say it. " . . . to _selling_ yourself," she at last spat indignantly, "but must you so openly display your wares?!"

Phoebe gulped. Piper had caught her! But it wasn't like she could really do anything to her any more, the young temptress thought. She wouldn't throw her out, and even if she would have, she couldn't. Blanche would never allow it. After all, Phoebe was quickly becoming a favorite at the Devereaux saloon. "If you've got it, sister, flaunt it!"

"PHOEBE HALLIWELL!" Piper blasted out, and then she caught sight of the owner of the shop whose windows Phoebe's bared breasts had just been glistening in and turned an even purpler shade of red. Her breath sucked in quickly, and she wished that the boards beneath her feet would give way and the ground would swallow her completely. She turned her head quickly, unable to bare witness to what the fine gentleman must now undoubtedly think of her. Her long, black hair fell across her face, hiding her horrified expression from view and muffling her plaintive, "Oh, I am _so_ dreadfully sorry, Mister Turner!"

Inwardly, Piper groaned again. Not only had Phoebe succeeded in dragging her family's name through the muck yet again and destroying any margin of a half-way decent opinion Cole might have once held for her, but he'd surely come and collect on the bill now! Once again, Piper found herself lamenting the bloody ways of the West and wishing that the idiots in the town could have just waited a little while longer to anger Faith. If not for the shoot-out, Phoebe would have been tucked away in the saloon, entertaining their customers therein and Piper's muffins would have been being carefully wrapped in a basket this very moment to carry to Cole!

As it were, she had had to leave them over the fire while she stepped out to witness the duel and, far more importantly, keep a watchful eye over her little sisters during the process. Now she might as well have not baked the muffins or entertained any thoughts of persuading the good Mister Turner to push their bill to the side for a few more days. "I'm so sorry!" she breathed again, shaking her head and unconsciously tightening her grip on Phoebe's wrist.

"Ow!" Phoebe cried. She tried to pull away, but Piper held tight.

Cole had to hide his smile behind his hand. Anything that brought Miss Piper Halliwell to his shop was a good thing. Any moments that he could spend with her made his day brighter and better and his heart sing. He knew he was in love with her and had been since the moment he had first seen her, but he also knew that he didn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell of ever attaining to such a beauteous creature.

"It's quite all right, Miss Halliwell. I know you're not responsible for your sister. Your sister is responsible for herself. Can I do anything to help you today?" He took her free hand gently and kissed it, despite the fact that his left hand still held the broom. The mere touching of her hand sent a tingle that shot all the way to the ends of his toes. He wished he had some way of keeping her longer in his shop but could think of nothing except for how beautiful Piper was and how he wished that he could help her carry her burdens.

Fire sprang from Cole's lips to Piper's skin and rushed up her arm. Her head swung, and she peered up at him through innocent, brown eyes widened by surprise, shock, and the emotions that he set to tingling in her, emotions that were unlike anything she'd ever felt before. "I . . . huh . . . I . . . " She suddenly found it hard to breathe and impossible to think, and Phoebe grasped the situation to snatch her arm free of Piper's grasp.

"You know you both want it!" Phoebe exclaimed as she wriggled free of Piper and gave her a push. "Go ahead and go for it!" As Piper fell into Cole's arms with a strangled gasp of surprise, Phoebe bolted for the saloon. If she could be safely locked away in her room with a man by the time her sister returned, she wouldn't have to worry about Piper's bar of soap, a wretched thing that her older sister had shoved into her mouth more times than Phoebe cared to count!

Cole had been shocked by the words that had come out of Phoebe's mouth, but he was grateful to have been blessed to have Piper in his arms at long last. He looked down into her brown, dreamy eyes. "M-M-M-Miss Halliwell," he managed to stammer out, "are you okay?" How desperately he wanted to touch his lips to hers, but if he did, God in Heaven would surely strike him down with a lightning bolt and turn him into a pile of ashes for touching one of His Angels! His traitorous body was already enflaming him to the point that he felt he would be totally consumed on the spot, but what a way to go!

For one wild moment, Piper found herself wishing that she could act as carefree as her sisters. If she had had their courage or thoughtlessness to act only for what she wanted, she would have leaned up and captured Cole's mouth with her own. In the next second, she was wishing he would make the move, but then he spoke, his voice trembling.

She smiled warmly up at him, wondering why he stammered. Surely it was just the surprise of Phoebe's unbelievably rude behavior and had nothing to do with her herself? "Y-Yes, Mister Turner," she answered hesitantly, "I . . . I am fine, thanks to you." Her smile grew as she wished that she could stay in his arms forever, but in the next moment, she forced herself to begin to regain her composure as a lady and delicately, carefully extract her body from his arms.

She had never felt so hot in her entire life! She had to keep from fanning herself as she thought that maybe, just maybe, if the heat that was presently consuming her grabbed Phoebe in its embrace every time she spotted a male, that was why her little sister had gone the way of the harlots.

Searching his frantic mind for something that would cause Piper to linger longer, Cole asked her, "Would you like a sarsaparilla, Miss Piper?" He added with a big grin, "It's on the house." He reluctantly released her. If only he had dared to kiss her, but he was not worthy of her and he would not do so until he was! For now, he would have to be satisfied just being close to her.

He had turned his entire life around from once being the proud Demon Belthazor to being a mere shopkeeper, one the other Demons had been laughing at for a while, but he was in love and had been since the moment he had seen her, that day in the desert when she had given her last drops of water to her sisters while knowing that they faced certain death. Her quiet beauty had surrounded him and saved his soul. Now he strived to be worthy of her.

Unable to deny the call of her beauty that fateful day, Cole had appeared to Piper in the form of a raven. He had shown her where the water was and then had led her toward the town. He couldn't tell her that he was the bird nor could he reveal to her his true form. All he could do was hope and pray that he could become the man worthy of her. Then, and only then, he would tell her of the love that was in his heart, but never would he reveal to her that he was a Demon for she would run from him in fear. He could never have that for it would kill him.

She shouldn't accept it, she thought, for she was already in the man's debt and only trouble came from being in debt to any one. Yet how could she politely refuse him? She couldn't risk coming across as rude, and she certainly didn't want to hurt his feelings. Then she remembered her muffins that were probably beginning to burn. "I can't," she spoke quickly. "I have to get back and get my muffins off the fire before they burn. I am dreadfully sorry, though. Perhaps . . . " Her eyes met his again, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Truly she had never seen a more handsome man than the one who now towered before her, looking down upon her with more kindness than she'd ever seen in any other man's eyes! " . . . another time?"

"I'll hold you to that." He took a step backward, allowing her to leave. Emptiness filled his heart for a moment. "I'd . . . like to call upon you if I might to discuss a business deal." He waited for her response, holding his breath. {Now what made you say that, idiot?} he asked himself and prayed that she didn't take him for a bumbling fool.

When he'd first told her he would like to call upon her, Piper had inhaled sharply in surprise and turned to look up at him with hope dancing in her eyes. That hope had died as quickly as it had flared, however, and embarrassment and sorrow seared straight through to her soul. Of course! she lamented. Of course! Phoebe and Paige had done such damage to their family's reputation that now every one thought they worked for Blanche in that way.

She should probably take him up on it. It would be a way to pay the bill, but . . . Goddess, what was she thinking?! She was a Halliwell! She was a lady! She was not a trumpet! Her chin set as she lifted her head proudly. "Mister Turner," she spoke, her voice suddenly crisp, "I do provide service at the Devereaux saloon, but I assure you that it is only in the cooking trade."

"I would never think that of you, Miss Halliwell!" His face had gone into a blush. "I was . . . merely hoping to . . . " He searched for the right words. " . . . take some trade out with you in your cooking skills? I am not very good in the kitchen, and . . . your cooking is truly delicious. I was hoping that . . . perhaps . . . you could expand your abilities into making some cakes and pies that I could sell in my store? I would never, ever think the other of you!"

He kissed her hand again gently. "In my eyes, Miss Halliwell, you are a lady as grand as the Queen of England."

"Think about it and get back to me. Perhaps you would know the right prices to put on the baked goods? I will even provide the ingredients. We can split the profits 50/50." He smiled down into her eyes that were no longer flashing firebolts at him. He hoped that she would relent and do some cooking, because that would give her some extra income. He had searched his mind for some kind of way to help her and knew that she would never accept charity. He would give her the sun, moon, and stars, if he were able, but knew that she would hand them all back to him for despite the fact that he thought that she was a rare jewel, she did not think that of herself. He wanted desperately to change her opinion of herself and her family, despite what her younger sisters were constantly into.

Piper's mouth hung agape and her face blazed crimson while Cole continued to talk. As he explained himself, she wished many things. She wished once more that the ground would swallow her. She wished she could take back her terrible presumption. She wished that she knew the right words to apologize. She wished to run away and hide from the embarrassment that ate at her, but she also wished to be able to be held in his arms, rest her head against his strong chest, and explain herself thoroughly -- a fact she knew she could not do without crying. At last, she breathed, her voice shaking, "Thank you, Mister Turner, and I apologize most terribly. I should never have presumed, but I fear the rest of the townsfolk are nowhere near as generous as you in their opinions or compassion. I am," she humbly hung her head, "most sorry."

"No apology necessary, dear lady," he told her as he touched his finger to her lips. "Never apologize for what you are. You are a grand lady. The townspeople . . . Well, if they didn't look down on you, they'd look down on some one else. For the biggest part, they are a rather sorry lot, but I've seen worse."

"If you ever have need of me, call me. I'll be there for you." He wanted desperately to kiss her but did not dare. "Think about it and let me know. Until then." He kissed her hand again before reluctantly letting it go.

She was shaking, and her legs felt as though they no longer possessed the strength to carry her. She gazed at him in shock, admiration, and joy, her blush spreading throughout her body to curl around and burn even the very tips of her toes. She was grasped with a most ridiculous sensation right then as she found herself wanting to pour out all her emotions to this man she barely knew and yet felt as though she had known for so much longer.

She tried to speak, but even her mouth trembled. At last, she managed to breathe again, "Thank you," and then turned and rushed toward the saloon, a dozen thoughts crying out in her mind. She wanted to sing. She wanted to dance. She wanted to laugh and shout and cry and, most of all, she was stunned to realize, she wanted to be loved, be held, and be rescued from the horrible turmoil her life had been since the loss of her elders.

She did not stop moving until she was back in the kitchen. Then she collapsed against the door, tears sparkling in her eyes and the biggest smile she'd ever worn shining on her face. There was hope, and his name was Cole Turner!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Big eyes shining with adoration zeroed in on Faith as a young woman rushed down the boardwalk. Her long, brown hair flipped in the breeze behind her, drawing the attentions of several young men. She had made as if to go back into the saloon with her mother and sister, but when they had been looking the other way, she had beat a hasty retreat and came instead to get close to her idol.

She marveled at Faith every time she saw the female gunslinger. The woman was everything she wanted to be, and everything she dared not be. She could hear her family scolding her already and knew she'd get a beating for leaving without permission, but she didn't care. She had to tell Faith just how great she was, while she got the chance!

Bustling pass, and almost into, a blonde man who was scribbling something on a pad, Dawn exclaimed the moment she was near Faith, "Faith, you were amazing!"

Faith looked up from where she had been chatting with Hansel and rather ignoring the other two who stood with him to see the young girl bounding her way. She quirked a brow at her, then looked away and refocused on Hansel, who promptly suggested they return to the inn.

"Yeah, it's about time!" Derek commented. "You need to get in there before your latest lover gives one of our customers the vapors!"

"My latest lover?" Hansel questioned, giving Derek the raised-brow look he'd picked up from his sister.

"Yeah, you know, the Gypsy you left naked upstairs."

"I didn't -- "

"Yeah, yeah," Derek muttered dismissingly, waving him off. "I neither need nor want to hear about the sordid details of your messed up lovelife, Hansel, but what I need even less is a naked man wandering about, claiming not to know how he got here! Honestly, just how inebriated was he when you picked him up?"

Dawn's eyes had been darting back and forth between the men, but she shrugged the strange remarks off and began to follow into the line, hoping to get closer to Faith until she heard a low growl that took her by surprise. She stopped in place, her brown eyes wide. Was her hero growling at her? But no, Faith wasn't even looking at her. She was glaring holes into the back of Derek's head.

Hansel placed a gentle hand on Faith's elbow, a silent request that she leave Derek to him, and she whispered venomously to him. She'd let him have a go, but if Derek continued to slander her brother, he'd fare worse than the gunslinger the town undertaker was even then hauling away.

Hansel looked at Derek with innocent, blue eyes that batted ever so slightly. "My, my, Derek, who shoved a carrot up your ass instead of the sausage you wanted there?"

Dawson was following behind the group, trying hard not to give himself away. At that comment, he almost burst out laughing and had to cover his mouth with both hands, causing him to drop his notebook and his pencil. Stooping down, he quickly and quietly recovered his items.

Dawn did stop at those words and was even more surprised when Faith and Hansel grinned devilishly and the pale-skinned woman she knew only as Elvira burst out laughing, her strange, black eyes sparkling in delight. She'd never heard people talk such as this!

Derek whirled on Hansel, his eyes flashing and his face a considerably lighter shade. "Well, I never!"

Hansel's grin grew, his white teeth shining. "You know you should," he crooned to which Derek huffed and, blushing a deep crimson, returned wordlessly to the inn.

Only when Derek was gone did Hansel join in Elvira's laughter, but even then, with Dawn's and another's eyes completely focused upon her, Faith did not laugh. She grinned, clearly pleased with Hansel's handling of the situation, but not even the shortest chuckle escaped her dark lips.

Dawn found the others' laughter contagious and was just beginning to grin when a shrill voice cut through her ears and made her grimace, "Dawn!" Before she could move to hide, she heard hurried footsteps approaching and her sister's voice called out again, this time more demanding and full of accusation, "Dawn Summers!"

Hansel's laughter died in his throat; Faith looked up with eyes that were almost as black as Elvira's. Without a word, Faith's hands moved to rest on the hilts of her guns. Hansel gulped, his eyes darting between Faith and the swiftly approaching blonde. "Maybe we should go in now?" he suggested.

Elvira, sensing the building tension, finally stopped laughing. "Yeah, honey, you know, that's probably a good idea," she quickly agreed with Hansel, although uncertain of what was going on. "I need to get ready for my show."

"Go get ready for your show," Faith growled low, "and you find your man, Hansel. I'm just gonna watch."

"I think I'll stay," Hansel put in softly as the blonde harlot came up beside Dawn.

"There you are, Dawn! What are you doing out here?" the older woman questioned her sister. Then she saw Hansel and shook her head, her long, blonde hair tumbling down her back in waves that glimmered in the noon-day sunlight. "If I've told you once, Dawnie, I've told you a thousand times. Hansel's not interested in you. You need to find yourself a good boy and give up on him. He's looking for a woman."

Hansel's jaw set. His blue eyes glared, but before he could speak, Dawn protested. "But I'm not -- "

"Yes, yes, dear, I know. He's incredibly handsome, but he needs a _woman_, not a girl." Buffy shoved her way in front of Dawn and gave her a push that sent her tumbling.

Faith stepped up, placing herself between Buffy and Hansel, as Elvira caught Dawn and helped her recover her balance. "He doesn't want a woman," Faith snarled, her eyes flashing, "let alone a whore."

"Such language!" Buffy exclaimed, seemingly shocked. Her fingers hovered over her gasping mouth. When Faith continued to glare at her and none in the gathering seemed at all fazed by her exclamation, Buffy tossed the charade away. "Better a whore," she spoke softly with a smile, "than a murdering thief."

Half of Faith's mouth lifted into a depreciating smirk. "Want, take, have," she shot back. "Isn't that the motto you only wish you could live by?"

"I do do what I want and take what I want," Buffy replied, reaching a hand beyond Faith to touch Hansel's chest.

Hansel jumped away from her touch as Faith grasped Buffy's hand and squeezed hard. Buffy screamed as the bones in her hand first popped and then broke. The blonde's hand grasped firmly in her own, Faith twisted Buffy's arm around her back, kicked her in the butt, and finally released her. When Buffy went sprawling, no one moved to help her. Instead she fell off the boardwalk and landed hard on the ground, her face splattering into a pile of horse manure.

Buffy was shrieking when she lifted her head, and Faith glared down at her. "Touch my brother again, bitch, and you're dead." She turned around, her eyes meeting, for a moment, with the blue orbs of a blonde-headed stranger who she knew had watched the whole play down.

Hansel shook his head. He'd told Buffy to hobble her lip and that he wasn't interested so many times before that it was pure ridiculous that the woman kept moving on him! Then he grinned. This should at last put an end to that. He followed Faith into the inn as Elvira looked, with concern, over Dawn.

She sensed that the girl was weaker than she should be and, from the way she had cringed when Buffy had come squalling her name, she suspected why but would not ask her. Instead, with a friendly hand clasped lightly around her shoulders, she suggested, "Why don't you come in and have a drink, chile?"

Dawn looked up into the eyes of the strange woman. She was unlike any one she'd ever known, even Faith, but she smiled at her and her touch was gentle. Still she had to refuse her offer. "I . . . I don't have any money."

"No one said anything about paying for it, sweetheart. You just come with me and leave your sister to rile -- "

"DAWN," Buffy, now returned to her feet, blasted through their soft conversation, "IF YOU GO WITH THAT HARLOT, I'LL TELL MOM!"

Elvira glared at the blonde over the girl's head and felt Dawn's shoulders, and her hope, sink. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't."

Still sputtering about what Faith had done to her and holding her hand, Buffy clambered back onto the boardwalk. Snatching Dawn's arm with her good hand, she glared at Elvira. "Stay away from my sister, you . . . " Her blue eyes darted up and down Elvira's strange clothes and even stranger body before she spat out, in lack of another word to come to her mind, " . . . vermin!" She'd never seen any one as strange as this woman and knew she could not possibly be human but had no idea what she was.

"I'm sorry," Dawn mouthed silently, then pulled free of Buffy's hold and stomped down the boardwalk.

The moment Dawn turned her back to Elvira, the woman chose to give the blonde a piece of her mind as fully, if not as eloquently, as Faith had moments before. Her eyes locked with Buffy's, and her black lips pulled away from deadly fangs. One hiss was it all took to make the woman blanch, scream, and run for her life.

Elvira quickly hid her fangs, patted her lips to make sure her make up had remained intact, and glanced around the boardwalk. No one else had seen for the townspeople knew well of the hatred between Faith and Buffy and tended to make themselves scarce whether than risk being caught up in it. No one had seen, or, at least, that's what she believed until she turned around and saw a blonde man, with notepad in hand, watching her. "Whatcha looking at, stranger?" she drawled innocently.

"Not really sure, ma'am, but it seems the women in this town are crazy. I'm glad none of them has latched onto me yet! I'm a reporter looking for a story." He scarce could believe what he had seen with his own two eyes and would not dare to tell any one what he had seen, because they would surely think he was crazy.

"I'm hoping to get a story on the lady gunslinger." Dawson gave her one of his best smiles. "Do you think you could help me to get closer to her?" he asked hopefully.

Her eyes searched his, and she wondered if, perhaps, he was so green that he had not seen her fangs. Those who chose not to believe often managed to overlook what was even directly in their faces. At last, she grinned. "From what Hansel's told me about that girl, I'd say she's probably itching right now. Go get her a tequila, and maybe you'll get something even better than a story."

She started to sashay pass him, her black, slitted skirt swirling about her long legs, but then paused and looked back at him. "But I'd be careful with that pen, sir. You think the women around these parts are crazy? You ain't seen nothing 'til you try to write about 'em without permission." She smiled dangerously. "Do that, and you really will find yourself eaten up before you even know what hit you."

Elvira continued on into the inn, still smiling. If he had seen her, that might well hobble his lip permanently, but what she did not realize was that there had been another man watching her from the shadows on the other side of Main Street, a man who was even then fighting with his tail.

* * *

His skin itched, his tail twitched, and his hands clenched as he watched the stranger talk to his mate. Not that she would even acknowledge him the time of day. It was as though he didn't exist for her unless she was singing, but he knew she was his true soul mate. If that man laid one paw upon her, he would bound across the road as fast as lightning and tear into him. He would never touch his mate, or any one else's, ever again.

The full moon was coming. He could feel it, and he could hardly contain the wolf. His eyes continued to shift back and forth between his normal shade and the yellow eyes of the predator within as he watched the interaction between his mate, Elvira, and the stranger. If he touched her, he'd rip him limb from limb with great relish and enjoy gnawing upon his bones!

He continued watching the pair talking, listening to their words despite the distance that separated them, and was extremely relieved that the man was interested in the gunslinger known only as Faith. He grinned, his mouth full of gleaming, lethal fangs. He knew that Faith would have her legendary way with the reporter before the night was out. He had nothing to worry about except whether or not he could make it through his beloved's performance before wolfing.

* * *

Dawson felt a chill run up his spine at Elvira's words. He had no intention of writing anything about her until he had looked further into her. Hers might be a whole 'nother story, but first he had to tell the tale of the Lady Gunslinger. He knew it would be a sure-fire winner! Slowly he trailed behind the woman into the saloon.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Dawson's eyes searched for Faith, and he wondered what her last name was. He walked slowly up to the bar where he saw her sitting alone and stood beside her. "May I buy you a tequila, ma'am?"

She had known he was there before he had ever spoke a single word. She wondered, for the second time that day, what he wanted but quickly pushed the thought aside. It didn't matter what he wanted. He wasn't on her incredibly short list of those who mattered, and so she could care less to his desires. Her lips twitched into a half-smirk, half-grin as he offered the tequila. His desires didn't matter, she rephrased, unless they happened to meet with hers. Then he'd just get the luckiest he'd ever be in his entire life.

Faith cast a dark look over her leather-clad shoulder. She hadn't taken much notice of his attire before and had instead only noted the notepad in his hand and the way his blue eyes had peeked out from underneath the short brim of his bowler hat. Now she did, and her lips twisted in a definitive smirk around the rim of her mug at the sight of his dandy suit and carefully polished shoes. Damn, was he ever green! She'd have fun with this one!

Faith set her emptied mug down and only then officially acknowledged the kid. She inclined her head once, her unbound, raven hair bouncing with the movement. Her booted foot kicked the stool next to her slightly away from the bar while she stood standing.

Dawson looked into the reflection of Faith's eyes in the mirror above the bar and knew that she was toying with him. He stepped closer to her, avoiding the stool. Never in a million years would he sit while a lady stood. "My name is Dawson Leery," he told her even as he presented a card, "and I work for The Hartford Courant. With your permission, I'd like to report what happened on the street out there today and get your side of it?" he asked hopefully, trying to smile while fighting to keep his knees from knocking together.

She was even more beautiful the closer he got. What would it be like to touch her? he wondered and shivered at the thought for despite the fact that he was a reporter and had covered many a story, none had ever excited him like this one and none had he ever felt more unprepared for. He hoped he could do it justice.

Faith glanced at the offered card but did not take it. She listened to him prattle, barely quirking one brow at his announcement that he was a reporter. She'd known that the first moment she'd seen him, but surprise did come when he asked her for permission. Of all the city slickers who had ever written something about her, none had ever cared to ask for permission. None, she acknowledged, would have declined the offer to sit either. There might just be a little more to this kid than met the eye, but first things had to come first. She slid her mug a scant space over the table, not even as much as an inch, as a reminder to the nervous greenhorn of his offer.

"Barkeep," Dawson raised one finger, trying to get attention in the noisy barroom. It was almost deafening in its intensity. When the barkeep finally looked at him, he called, "Another tequila for the lady and a sarsaparilla for me."

The older man looked at Faith's latest conquest and grinned, barely able to keep from laughing. Faith drug things through the inn that were greener and just as odd as her brother's varied pieces of entertainment! He finished pouring the round of drinks down at the end of the bar, where the cowpokes had gathered in their careful effort to give Faith plenty of room, then went to work fixing the dandy's sarsaparilla. His magic hands worked swiftly, and soon he was sitting the frothy mug down in front of the timid reporter.

Bobby then uncapped another bottle of tequila and poured it into Faith's tall mug. Faith barely glanced at the bartender's winking, grinning face. If he didn't make the drinks so damned good, she would have shoved his mug up his ass, but she tolerated the mug because its cold surface was always a relief to her hands after being out in the hot desert sun.

Bobby had just moved away from Faith and the kid when one of the regulars sauntered in. Not much was known about the man other than his nickname of Wolf. He always came in alone and always left alone, and Bobby figured that that must be where the name had come from. He looked rough today, he noted, and was about to go see what he might order when the curtain moved ever so slightly. He caught Elvira's questing look and hurried to fix her special drink.

* * *

Wolf moved silently to his favorite table which he had to empty from the two strangers drinking there, a task solved with but a simple hiss and baring of his fangs. How dare they take his table! Sweat poured down the back of his shirt even as he felt the primitive call of the wolf and prayed that he could hold on long enough to see Elvira's performance and not wolf on the spot.

The blood lust was upon him to the point he almost howled. The only way he stopped from howling was clamping his hand over his mouth as he felt the howl raise within. He couldn't do it before the show! He looked around frantically with his hands still clamped tightly over his mouth. Never had he had such trouble controlling the wolf, but Elvira brought out a wildness in him that no one else ever had! She might not know it yet, but he knew that she was his forever mate and he would claim her when the time was right.

* * *

Faith gave Dawson another slight nod, just enough to let him know she approved thus far, as she gulped down half of the second tequila. She had an itch that was going to have to be scratched, but first, before she could allow white hands upon her body, she had to get ready. For one brief moment, she thought about heading out for a romp in the wilds but dismissed the idea as she studied the kid's reflection in the mirror from eyes as dark as the night. There was something about this boy that intrigued her.

The excitement in the room intensified. Dawson turned to where he heard a curtain move. "What's happening?" he asked even as he felt Faith's eyes strongly upon him. She was studying him as though she was a huge cat about to attack and eat him.

He was as nervous as a long-tailed tomcat in a room full of rocking chairs, hoping that he didn't make a wrong move. What if she liked him? he wondered. He was afraid he would disappoint her as he had never had that experience. How would he handle it? "Ma'am, you didn't give me an answer?" he asked her, hoping she'd get her mind off of what he was picking up from her and onto safer ground.

"The cowpokes are just getting excited, because it's almost time for the show. I'm sure you've heard of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. She gets around or did before my brother sewed her up here."

"As for what happened out in the road, there ain't much to tell," she said with a careless shrug. "Idiot spilled his beer on my boot." Her lips twitched into a tiny grin as she turned, finally showing a bit of true interest, to see the reaction that bit of information would bring.

He fought to keep from laughing. "He spilled beer on your boot and you shot him?! Damn!" He swiftly lost the battle and laughed so hard that he fell back against the bar and slid down to sit on the floor. Instead of trying to get up, he continued to laugh. After all he had been through trying to get here -- the Indians and the stagecoach ride -- and now to find out that a lady gunslinger had killed a man for spilling beer on her boots?! It was just too much!! Tears began to roll down his face. In the back of his mind, he remembered that she had said something about Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but he had no clue as to who she was.

Faith's eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth opened just a bit as her grin finally broke out in full. Quickly she downed the rest of her tequila as she heard the others at the bar begin to whisper about how there was going to be another killing and how stupid the greenhorn was. She ignored them all as she slapped her mug back down onto the bar.

Bobby had left for the backstage area with Elvira's goblet -- the woman refused to drink out of a normal mug when she could avoid it -- but turned upon hearing the laughter and the swiftly spreading rumors. He was just in time to see Faith bend down, grab a handful of vest and jacket, and snatch Dawson up to her. He grinned, his eyes sparkling, as he witnessed her slam her mouth down upon the reporter's. The entire barroom grew instantly quiet.

The reflection raced through Faith's mind that Dawson tasted better than she had thought he would. She found his lips utterly sweet and began to work with her tongue to tempt, tease, and ultimately pry his mouth open.

The assault upon Dawson came so quickly he didn't have time to fear, and his first reaction to the lips who persisted so eagerly upon his was to kiss them in return. Could it be that under this wild outlaw exterior, there was a real woman lurking, and was he about to have his first time? He hoped they would at least make it out of the barroom. For the life of him, he could not figure out what he had done to excite her and hoped he could continue doing it.

Faith's tongue plunged into Dawson's mouth and began to stroke his. The fire built between them until she could barely stand it but, finally, out of respect for Hansel more than anything else and not wanting to cause an even further rift between him and the idiot that he had once fallen for, Faith released Dawson. She was panting, and her dark eyes were dancing with more happiness than any one in the room had ever seen therein.

"You want a real story?" she asked the kid. Without giving him a chance to answer, she told him, "Come with me," and once more grasped his vest. This time she started leading him up the stairs.

"Hey, Faith!" Hansel's voice called, and she looked back down from the winding staircase. Her grinning brother tossed her a bottle that she caught deftly, and then she resumed pulling Dawson eagerly up the stairs as she bounded up them, taking two, and sometimes three, at a time.

Dawson held on to his hat with one hand as it kept threatening to fall off and did his best to keep up with Faith going up the stairs. He wasn't sure what was about to unfold, but he thought it just might be the wildest night of his life and he was definitely looking forward to it. {What a way to lose your virginity!}

He prayed that she wouldn't stop making the advancements when she found out that he was a virgin. He was so tired of being one and getting picked on but had never known what to do about it. He couldn't advance on a woman if his life had depended on it. Here, all he had to do was enjoy and pray that she didn't lose interest.

* * *

"I thought you'd be seeing to your Gypsy by now?" Derek demanded from behind Hansel, his hands on his hips.

Hansel's joy at leaving the kitchen to find his sister taking some blonde greenhorn up the stairs diminished as he heard the angry tone of the man who had once seemed to know nothing but happiness in his presence. "Put a dick in it," he growled. He had been putting up with Derek's temper for weeks, and it was finally beginning to get the better of him. Either that, or being around Faith again was bolstering him as it always had before. A man couldn't help but to gather courage from having a sister who knew absolutely no fear. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey he'd come for, then slid out from behind Derek, thankful that his partner, such as he was, was delayed by orders.

He glanced at the man named Wolf who seemed to have already been having too much fun and wondered if Elvira had finally made her move. Shrugging the thought off and hoping that that was it and that the man wasn't becoming sick in his tavern, Hansel headed for the bedroom where he'd left the Gypsy he'd rescued the night before.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Elvira was peering through the sliver of the curtain again when Bobby came up behind her. "Something wrong?" he whispered.

"Have you spoken to Wolf today?" she asked, turning and accepting her drink. Her long, pale fingers curled around the stem of the golden goblet as she drank her nourishment.

He shook his head, and her frown deepened.

"Don't do it," he reminded her quietly. "You'll get wrinkles." He grinned. It was a joke that had started between them when he had still been in deep mourning for his lost love.

"I'm worried about him," she admitted, carefully straightening her brow and forcing her black lips to turn upright. "He looks sick. Take him a drink, will you, and see what you can get out of him?"

"Elvira, honey, are you sure you want me to pick his pockets?" Bobby asked with a disarming grin. "The man doesn't look like he's got hardly anything to his name today!"

But Elvira didn't laugh, and Bobby realized she was deeply concerned. Sombering instantly, he told her, "I will, and I'll keep an eye on him."

She placed her emptied goblet back onto his tray and licked the last red drops from her lips. "Thanks, Bobby. You're a doll," she told him, patting his cheek. "Now scat before they think you're one of my boy toys."

"I could be."

"Maybe another time," she replied with a forced grin. They both knew it would never happen, and neither was truthfully inclined that way. Bobby had not looked at another since Hank's death, and Elvira would never try to put a move on a man who she knew preferred men. She did use plenty of men, but they were all willing and all, she reflected with a twinge of mournfulness, were only there to serve a purpose. None of them had ever meant to her what Hank had to Bobby, and none of them ever would.

She heard the music play and put on her stage face. The curtain pulled, and she blasted out, dancing the familiar moves and singing to her fullest. She tried to take in all her audience, but her eyes kept moving back to the mysterious, and breathtakingly handsome, Wolf.

* * *

Wolf could not tear his eyes away from Elvira as she danced across the stage, dreaming that she danced only for him. He breathed on every sound she made. His passions grew higher. Fever threatened to run through his body. He could feel the wolfing coming. He began to howl at her, stamping his table with his mug and making an utter and complete fool of himself. He knew the transformation would not be long and that it would not wait for nightfall, but he would not tear himself away from his beloved. {One day,} he vowed, {I will take her away from this. One day I will make her my Queen!}

Bobby slipped up behind Wolf, his own eyes feasting on the men that were part of Elvira's act. He would never touch any of them for none could possibly hope to compare to his Hank, but he could admire the scenery, something Elvira had helped him to learn to accept was still within his grasp.

He took Wolf's emptied mug and set him down another. He knew he shouldn't tell him for she did not want her admiration known, but she had done so much to help him that he could not resist. "It's from the lady," he spoke over his howls, howls that took him back to another time and another man. They had been more like yowls, though, he thought as he remembered, his eyes growing misty.

"From her?" Wolf breathed, his tail wagging beneath his jacket. She did like him! "Thank you." He still could not prevent himself from howling yet again.

Although he knew that Elvira danced with the men that were on the stage with her, he also knew that she was not sleeping with them. They were all just as gay as the bartender. Who was taking care of his lady, and why couldn't it be he? he asked himself. {If she didn't care about me, why would she send me a drink?} Maybe he should grab her and run away with her? He continued to stare at the woman he loved, his tongue panting in rhythm to her sultry moves.

Bobby stood in the crowded barroom, whistling, screams, and howls barraging all about him, but his mind was in another place as he struggled with the choice of whether to help the man he knew who Elvira truly wanted though she'd never admit it or keep his friend's secret that he believed would only lead to an empty, lonely life for her. At last, he spoke, his lover's sensual voice caressing his ears from beyond the grave, as tears filled his eyes. Hank had loved all kinds of books, but one of his favorites had been poetry. He repeated one of the ones he'd read him now:

"If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,  
But rather to beget more love in you:  
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;  
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.  
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;  
For--get you gone--she doth not mean--away."

Wolf listened and held the words Bobby spoke tightly in his fist as though he would cram it into his heart to last forever. "Are you saying that she . . . cares for me?" The wildness had gone from his eyes. Could it be possible? That was what Bobby had just told him! He understood but knew not what to do about it. He would hold her love as though it was a priceless treasure deep within his heart. The day would come when he could breathe to her his love.

"Thank you, my friend," he spoke gruffly. Yet a new light had entered his heart that had not been there before. He had hope now. He pushed against the table and ran outside, knowing he had to find somewhere so that he could be alone, somewhere where he could change and not be seen. The brightness of the day blinded him as he struggled to reach the stables. Once there, he began to change, his last coherent thoughts being of the woman he loved and how he would one day have her for his own.

* * *

Elvira's heart sank as she watched Wolf go. She had seen Bobby talking to him and wondered what he had said. She knew that whatever it was it had nothing to do with whatever had caused him to flee from the tavern as though wolves were nipping at his heels, but she wondered if Bobby had some clue as to what had. There was no way to ask him now, however, and she certainly couldn't go after Wolf. If she did, he would know she cared, and she could not allow that.

Instead she kept dancing and was thankful as her lead partner made his move. The green Demon's charming smile helped her to forget her cares for the moment and concentrate on the act at hand. Lorne was a very handsome man, even if he was naturally green and used no makeup unlike the rest of her crew, but he was also a very sweet friend. He whispered jokes to her as she sang, then belted out his own lines in the loveliest voice she'd ever heard on a man. No wonder he was gay! No man could sing like that, she thought with a grin, and be straight! Knowing she'd have to wait until later to find out whatever Bobby might have discovered, Elvira threw herself into the dance.

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: The poetry quoted by Bobby from Hank is not ours but belongs to Shakespeare instead and is used without permission.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Faith sprang the moment she pulled Dawson into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind her. She pushed him against the door and kissed him again while pushing his jacket to the floor. She removed her gunbelt and threw it behind her. It landed with perfect accuracy, looping around the top bedpost, even as she leapt, wrapping her legs around Dawson's waist. She kissed him wildly, her tongue thrusting into his mouth as her womanhood cradled his beginning rise. Her fingernails clawed at his shirt.

Dawson wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he liked it! Never had any woman wanted him this badly! He hardly knew what to do as her tongue began to thrust in and out of his mouth, but his body seemed to know. His hands grabbed hold of her breasts. He struggled to make it for the bed but feared he was going to make it to the floor instead. His hands started trying to rip his clothes off even as they grabbed for her breasts. Not a word was spoken as they crashed into the bed. His steed rose as of its own accord, straining to penetrate through both their tight pants.

Faith straddled Dawson, her knees on either side of his hips. She tore his shirt from him and ran her hands down his bared chest several times before pulling up to gaze down at him. She grinned, danger and excitement dancing enticingly in her dark eyes. Stretching before him, she tossed off her duster and then her shirt, not caring in the least that the buttons popped and scattered across the bed and floor.

His mouth fell open in surprise at the bountiful breasts that came bounding out to him. His mouth instinctively sought one and began to suckle. He felt her hands seeking his trousers and hoped that she didn't tear them off of him, but then who the Hell cared except that he didn't have another pair?

He wanted to be loose and wild and free, just like her! It was his first time, and it was so wild that it was beyond his wildest dreams! He only hoped that he could bare up to it. He could never tell his readers about this! They'd never believe him! He hoped to scoot out of his pants even as he began to loosen hers.

He could not believe that this wonderful, wild dream was happening to him and thanked his Gods for giving it to him! He prayed that she would not shoot him afterwards if he failed to keep up to her expectations. After all, she had just killed a man that day, his bewildered mind thought, for spilling beer on her boot! What would she do if he couldn't keep it up?!

* * *

Frown lines deepened Hansel's handsome face as he entered his bedroom. He had not found the mysterious Gypsy where he had stashed him the night before and had been thus far unable to get any leads on his whereabouts. It had also been a rough morning, and he dreaded going back downstairs to face Derek's on-going wrath. He shook his head sadly. When he'd first fallen in love with the man, he never would have thought he would have turned into such a snooty bitch!

Hansel turned around from locking his door, and his blue eyes widened in first surprise and then dismay. His brownies were gone! Upon closer inspection of the plate, Hansel discovered that a few crumbs did remain, which ruled Derek out as being the perpetrator. Derek had tossed his brownies away several times before, but there was never even so much as a drop left behind his thievery. He uncapped his bottle of whiskey and took a slug.

Then a sound met Hansel's ears, and he turned toward the purr to find his misplaced Gypsy laying in his bed with a cat upon his chest. The blonde placed the whiskey next to his emptied plate of brownies and moved cautiously closer, his purple boots falling silent upon the floor. Reaching the bed, Hansel found himself gazing down into a most fetching face.

The Gypsy's hair was as rich and dark as the midnight velvet of the night sky. It framed his smooth face like a fluffy, night cloud, bringing out the pure ivory of his flesh. Hansel's breath caught in his throat. He had noticed last night, when he had pulled him out of the alley way, that the stranger was cute, but he was completely unprepared for the reaction seeing him today took upon him.

His breath caught in his throat, and his heartbeat quickened. Sweat dotted his palms as his blue eyes moved down the Gypsy's face to his lips. They looked so soft and inviting that he found himself wondering what it would be like to taste of his nectar just once. He wasn't used to making moves on men whose persuasion he did not even know, but the beautiful Gypsy was asleep. One kiss surely could not hurt, and it had been so long . . .

Hansel leaned slowly down, careful to even quiet his breathing. He made no sound as he came down upon the stranger and gently pressed his lips to his Sleeping Beauty's.

* * *

Jack did not know how he had come to be in such a warm and safe place for he had been chased so much recently by the dark shadows of the night that he feared he would never find safety and warmth again. The brownies had lulled him into a rather dream-filled nightmare, and he had whimpered several times only to be reassured by Willow's kneading claws. Now he wondered how Willow had turned into a pair of warm, inviting lips that kissed him so tenderly. He did not open his eyes but feigned sleep, waiting to see what the next move would be.

Hansel paused with his lips still upon the Gypsy's; they tasted every bit as sweet as they looked. His blue eyes searched the stranger's face, and when he made no move to awaken, he continued his nourishment, relishing in the supple satin that his mouth caressed. He felt eyes upon him, but it was not the Gypsy's. Hansel stilled again, fully expecting the cat to attack.

A deep grumble roared in Willow's throat. He was not sure how Jack would be taking to this man. He was a stranger to them, but he knew Jack was lonely. He watched to see what Jack would do, still grumbling and letting the strange, blonde man know that he would attack if necessary.

Jack's hands slipped from his side, reached out, and pulled his dashing Knight closer to him. He didn't even know his name, but his need was strong and his urges even stronger. He didn't know this man, but he had risked life and limb to save him the night before and the very least that he could do would be to return his kiss, not that it wasn't enticing and intoxicating at the same time.

He pulled him closer to him, ever closer, and kissed him in return, starting slowly as though a dying match gradually regaining restrengthened embers and growing in passion at the same time. He felt his member surge. It had been so long since the last time he had made love. He had been afraid most of that time of being discovered. He trembled in anticipation.

Hansel had been about to move away from the alluring Gypsy when Jack had made his move and pulled him closer. Shivers raked through Hansel at Jack's gentle touches. It had been so long since any one had been gentle with him, and he craved it like a man dying in the desert craved water. He touched him hesitantly, his fingers first stroking his hair and then caressing his handsome face, his touches as tentative as though he feared breaking him. At any moment, Hansel thought, the Gypsy would come to, realize what he was doing, and toss him to the side as Derek had or as every lover he'd had after Derek had done the following morning. There was no reason at all for him to think that such a fascinatingly handsome man would ever want him.

Still he lingered, taking what he could while the stranger was willing to give it. He kissed his lips almost reverently, but his tongue was wilder, thrusting into the other man's mouth even as his sword thrust against his own trousers. As the bewitching Gypsy pulled him closer still, he started to rub against him, his kisses growing with heat and passion as his tongue twisted against his. His hands grew bolder, as well, slipping over the Gypsy's body and caressing every spot they came across.

The thrilling touch of Hansel's returning kiss made Jack's blood race even faster. He had never been one to make violent love; he had always preferred the gentler methods. He opened his eyes and, through his silky lashes, gazed intently into Hansel's face. He felt his need that seemed to be as great as his own. As his fingers touched his skin, he trembled.

He longed to be loved gently, too. He had had violence too much in his life. Ever since he had lost his people, he had drifted, never allowing himself to care about any one individual save for one and that one he had taken to safety. Now he was feeling himself led to be in the caring of another one. He felt that he should fight it for he didn't want to endanger him, but he didn't want to. He wanted -- no, he corrected himself, {I _need_ this as much as he does.}

He began to stroke the blonde man's skin gently. "I don't even know your name," he whispered as his dark eyes sparkled in the duskiness of the room. "You're an Angel, and I am humbled by your intentions. Thank you for last night." He backed ever so slowly into the deep folds of the bed, pulling Hansel in with him.

Once there he gently pushed him onto his back. Jack's long hair fell down around him even as he lowered his lips to Hansel's. The heat was rushing through his body so much he could barely think. He wanted to only feel and not think. His tongue delved into Hansel's mouth, resuming and deepening their kisses.

Willow got angrily off of the bed and stalked to the window. If Jack was going to have fun, he was going to have fun! He was not going to stay there and watch their pathetic excuses for doing the deed! He climbed up onto the window sill and gave one forlorn look back at Jack, thinking, {Have fun, and, for once, do it like I would!}, before diving out the window.

* * *

Faith kicked off her boots; they hit the wall with solid thunks. Her socked feet rubbed briefly against his legs before pushing at his shoes. They soon followed her boots.

His tentative mouth on her breast felt wonderful, and though her head was tossed back, she longed to have him closer. Her hands stroked his blonde hair before cupping his head and pressing him closer. Her breast shoved further into his mouth.

Pausing briefly, Dawson removed his pants, sliding them off onto the floor. He continued to suckle one breast while his hand sought the other one and kneaded as roughly as he could manage. Some reason, this woman liked it rough, and he was determined to give it to her! He was determined to give as rough as he got back to her.

How to get her pants off? He had noticed them earlier and knew that they had buttons. He could snatch them, but they would probably hold. He tugged at them, hoping she'd get the message to take them off and rather quickly before his member failed them.

He lured a gasp from her as he kneaded her breast. Through all the men she'd been with before, none had ever actually massaged her. They had stroked, sucked, and nipped but never massaged! She was surprised at how good it felt and almost forgot about the jeans that still stood in their way.

His slight tugging reminded her, and she quickly undid the buttons. She leaned down over him, pressing him down into the bed, and placed her hands on either side of his head. She then jumped into the air, stripped her jeans in one fluid movement, and landed back upon his steed, her mouth covering his. A gasp erupted from Dawson but was silenced by Faith's mouth.

* * *

Hansel was wowed. He had never had any one speak to him as this stranger did, and his every word, along with his every touch, took him ever higher. His sword strained against his trousers, aching for release and to plunge into the Gypsy's sweetness. His mouth eagerly kissed him back as his hands slipped into the silk of his own shirt, a fact that he only wondered about very briefly before pushing it aside while caressing his bare flesh.

He wasn't sure how or when he had ended up on his back, but he found he didn't mind being there one bit. Even though they had just met, he already trusted this intoxicating stranger more than he did Derek. When Derek rolled him over, he never knew what was going to happen: whether he'd simply make love to him, stoke him into dragon mode, or, as had been happening more recently and as he'd told no one, hit him. The last time they had made love, Hansel had ended up with a broken bone out of the ordeal, and since then Derek had continued to take out his anger on him but had shoved him further and further away.

But he had never had a gentler encounter than right now with the Gypsy stroking him as lightly as a feather at first and then growing bolder. Hansel's hands ran over his chest and stomach before sliding back up to run his fingers in soft circles over his hardened nipples. "I am no Angel," he broke from his mouth to tell him, "only a man in awe of your beauty." He brushed his face against the hair whose texture was every bit as silken to the touch as it appeared to the eye. He grinned up into his eyes, his own blue orbs dancing with elation he hadn't felt in far too long. "I couldn't possibly leave anything as yummy as you out on the streets." He kissed him again.

"I've never known any one like you," Jack told him even as he began to trail kisses down his cheek and over his neck, making his way to his buttons which he bit off one at a time, slowly revealing Hansel's chest. He then trailed kisses to his breasts that were beginning to harden. "I've never known gentleness, but I crave it like a kid craves a frosted cake. You are my cake, and I am going to eat you one piece at a time."

He purred even as he suckled at his nipple. He gently tugged at the pants that seemed to be as silken as the ones he had on. "You like silk. I have your clothes on. I was naked, and there was this awful, awful man yelling at me about being naked and in his hotel. I didn't mean to eat all of your brownies, but I was so hungry! I think I haven't eaten in days."

In between talking, he kept kissing and nibbling. He slid his hands over the silken skin, kneading gently and nibbling his way, heat threatening to overcome his brain and making him lose what control he did have. Hansel was like a golden treat to him, golden and so full of sweetness. He could not remember a more delicate treat.

Hansel was higher than he'd ever been before in his entire life, the Gypsy's words sending him soaring even further than his touches did. Not even the mention of Derek could impair what he was feeling now. His sword strained against his trousers, ripping the delicate material as it broke free of its own accord to touch Jack's stomach. "All this," Hansel moaned delightedly, "and no brownies!" He was amazed that he was able to feel so wonderful without their aid, and all he wanted was more of this amazing man.

"Don't worry about Derek," he breathed, writhing underneath his mouth in delight, "or the brownies. I'll make you more later, and Derek's one hardass we're not going to let spoil our fun." His breathing came in gasps, and his hands massaged Jack's body with a growing urgency. He fought to contain himself enough to easily slide his shirt off of his body, not wanting to damage another of his fine garments beyond repair although he'd never lost an outfit to anything more exciting in his entire life.

"I am," he gasped, "your willing banquet, dear Gypsy. Take me as you will." He had to struggle to get each word out as his brain fogged with ecstasy. His hands roamed further down Jack's body to first caress and then squeeze his alerted sword through the tightened fabric of his pants.

Jack got up from the bed for just a second, slipping his pants off before climbing back into bed. Hansel's sword was hard, firm, and begging for attention, but Jack's had been straining his pants beyond bearance, so badly that they had been hurting him. He reversed in the bed. He knew he had to slow it down to make it last a little longer.

He slipped Hansel's boots off one at a time; each made a resounding thump on the floor. He then slipped the silky socks off. He wondered if Hansel always wore silk and found that he liked the texture very much. His mouth went to Hansel's toes, and he began to nibble each of them in turn.

His erection was next to Hansel's, and he felt his sword doing his own dance, reaching forward and massaging Hansel's. His hands ran gently up Hansel's legs. "Ah, my love, you taste delicious!"

He purred yet again. That was one thing he had learned from Willow: how to purr. He'd have to thank him for it later as he felt Hansel's reaction.

He didn't want to go too fast, yet he couldn't go any slower! He wanted to make it last longer. He had never felt like this before. No one had ever loved him so gently. He reached down with his left hand and stroked Hansel's steed, rubbing it even more strongly against his own. Part of him wanted to erupt like a volcano, and the other part of him wanted to go even slower to enjoy and relish each and every second they had together.

Jack could feel the time slipping, and he was so scared that they would not get to finish their dance before it caught up with him. He knew he'd have to tell Hansel sooner or later about the danger that pursued him relentlessly, but for now, it was the time of loving and Jack was giving it everything he had.

He didn't know who would do the riding, but he knew he was in for the ride of his life and he planned to give Hansel every bit that he could. No one would ever hurt Hansel again, Jack vowed, not if he was able to do anything about it. He had seen the bruises on Hansel. He didn't ask about that. He thought he knew who had caused the bruises and vowed to make him pay for it later. He continued to feast on Hansel's toes, enjoying every moment.

* * *

Dawson surged upward, his hands instinctively seeking Faith's buttocks and pulling her even closer to his swollen member. He kneaded her buttocks as he pumped upward into her. {God, what a woman!} he thought and enjoyed the ride, his mouth returning kiss for kiss and his tongue dueling with hers.

She began moving in an erotic rhythm, sliding up and down his staff and building friction therein. She kissed him long and deep, her tongue twisting around his as it searched the deepest areas of his sweetness. Her hands slid between their bodies to caress his chest. It wasn't as muscular as some of her horses had been, but his skin felt far smoother, almost velvety to her touch. Her fingers thrilled at the unusual smoothness of his skin as they roamed, freely caressing him. She began to rub her body against his as she raised and lowered herself over his rearing steed.

* * *

Never before had any one touched Hansel's feet with their hands, let alone their mouth, and while it tickled, heat also surged throughout his body at even the tiniest of nibbles. His gasps played on Jack's ears like music as the Gypsy worked his magic on him. All thoughts eased from Hansel's mind, and he floated in the clouds. His hands ran slowly down Jack's body, caressing every inch they could reach, as his sword rubbed his with growing urgency and passion.

He had never known a world such as this, so full of loving, heat, and ecstasy. There was no need for brownies here or for Faith's protection. There was no desire for a better life with Derek. There was nothing but pleasure and happiness. It curled all around him, surrounding him with a warmth that was hotter than the dog days of Summer and more comforting than anything he'd ever known.

He moaned his pleasure as his body acted on its own. His hands started their massaging at Jack's feet and slowly advanced up his body. His sword rubbed against his harder and swifter until it was like a runaway train barreling down the tracks and there was no power on earth that could stop it. His pleasure erupted from his mouth in the beginning strands of a yodel.

Laughter bubbled up inside Jack as Hansel yodeled. It was pleasurable laughter. He had never caused any one to do that before! He did not want to upset Hansel by laughing. It was time, he thought, and he moved just a little more until his mouth was right there, right where the surging sword was coming toward him. He opened his mouth and swallowed it, licking and nibbling as he went.

His hands reached under his buttocks, pulling him firmly more into his mouth, and he continued to suckle him until he felt Hansel's eruption close at hand. His own sword thrust toward Hansel's mouth. He knew if he took it within his, he would explode as well. It was the most exciting love Jack had ever had in his life! He wanted to erupt with some kind of noise but never thought he would dare to make a yodel.

Hansel's hands grasped Jack's sword, and he rubbed him lovingly, his fingers caressing his tender skin. Then he twisted instinctually in the bed and took Jack's sword into his mouth. He sucked as his heat filled him, drawing it as far into his mouth as he could, as stars continued to explode all around him.

Between the two of them, the excitement built to such a crescendo that Jack felt an eruption coming from his loins as well. He couldn't help himself. He howled louder than he had ever howled before in his life, sounding like a wolf in heat. It echoed through the hotel, causing patrons to raise their heads in wonderment at what kind of creature Hansel could have dragged home this time.

Derek clenched his fists. He'd make Hansel pay for this and any other thing he could think up in the mean time! How dare he bring a stranger home and fuck him in broad daylight, when he was supposed to be his! He'd make them both pay! He could barely wait. He thought about dashing angrily up the stairs but didn't want to draw more attention to the direction.

* * *

Faith was driving Dawson out of his blasted mind, and all he wanted to do was to scream the ecstasy of it! Then she bit him. His screams erupted, and it sounded as though some one was committing murder!

Between the wolf's howl and the answering scream, the patrons ceased their applaud of the show and ran out into the street to get away from whatever was doing the attacking. Once safe in the street, they turned questioning eyes back upon the hotel. Did they dare to return?

Derek blustered and shook with his anger. How dare Hansel turn their establishment into a three-ring circus and allow free reign to his sister, as well! He had to put a stop to it!

Elvira and Lorne looked at each other, then laughed gaily. They knew what the customers were running from and found it hilarious that they should be so easily scared of people who were simply enjoying the best times of their lives.

* * *

Jack stiffened as he heard the screams. His eyes looked at Hansel questioningly. Was some one being ripped limb from limb, and would they be here next? He would protect Hansel if need be! "What . . . ?"

Hansel was reluctant to remove his mouth from his Gypsy's mighty sword, but the fear in his eyes made him do so. He shrugged, his muscles sliding against his body. "It's just Faith's latest ride."

"Faith?" Jack questioned even as he cuddled Hansel to him. He could feel his member rising to the occasion yet again.

"My sister." Hansel rose up on his elbows and gently kissed his lips. His sword rubbed invitingly against his.

"Never known nothing like that," Jack said with a wide-eyed gaze. "Of course I haven't been around much women. Do they cause screams like that always? Is she killing him?" His hands were busy upon Hansel, stroking him gently. He would want to meet this Faith to see if she was anything like her brother.

"Not always, but Faith always manages it out of her . . . " He stopped himself. He'd almost used the term that Faith tended to use when describing her conquests, but to tell his Gypsy that his sister was bringing those screams out of a horse would really shake him up. He wanted to shake him up, all right, but not in that way. " . . . boys. Haven't you ever screamed like that?" he asked, his eyes gazing questioningly into his.

"No. I've only had a woman once, and she was not very, huh, scream-producing. She was much of a disappointment. And no one has ever brought a howl out of me before." He nuzzled Hansel. "No one has ever pleased me as much as you."

He pushed Hansel back on the bed and began kissing him again. "And no one has ever made my sword rise to the occasion twice." He continued kissing him. "But I find I want you as much as I did the first time, so I shall continue to dine upon you, my beloved banquet."

"Dine away, darlin'," Hansel drawled, grinning mischievously as he suddenly rolled Jack over onto his back and straddled him, "but let's see if I can't make you scream like that." His blue eyes danced as he gazed down into his and resumed stroking his chest, his fingernails lightly brushing over his skin. "And, by the way, sweet Gypsy, it was my pleasure." He then kissed him again, his tongue diving into the welcoming waters of his new home.

* * *

She had never produced a scream that fast before from any of her other horses. Faith's grin grew ever larger as she continued riding Dawson. The sounds he made played on her ears like music as she lowered her mouth to his nipples, first circling them with licks and then sucking their hardened centers in between her teeth and into her mouth. Even her feet got into the act as they rubbed the sides of his legs.

Dawson thought he had died and gone to Heaven. He had never felt such excitement raging through his loins and body before. He continued to plunge as deeply as he could into Faith, but he wanted her beneath him so that he could get fuller penetration. He felt like she had not taken his whole steed, and he felt like he could give her a whole lot more. He tried to roll her over.

Faith's hands slammed down into the bed on either side of Dawson's head; she would not roll over. Memories flashed through her mind of the times she had been beneath men in the past, and she shook her head, her long, raven hair shimmering down her body and falling about them like a curtain made of a starless night. Not giving him a chance to speak, let alone to ask questions, she moved back up his body and recaptured his mouth with hers even as she brought herself all the way down his steed. It proved to be longer than she had thought, but she took him all.

He felt the shudders racing through his body as he knew he was close to cumming. She did not trust him; he could understand that. She didn't know him. He would prove to her that she could trust him. His hands gripped her buttocks more firmly and squeezed. He almost bit blood from her mouth as she rammed down further on him. That's when he came and came and came . . .

Dancing lights flipped through his head. This time, when his screams came, she took them all into her mouth. He still could not believe that he had screamed out loud. He, Dawson Leery, who was always quieter than a mouse had actually dared to scream in broad daylight! His fingernails raked her back, driving them to even greater passions, and he gave himself completely up to her, rejoicing in the way she played him like a fine-tuned instrument. With a last upward surge, he gave her his all, and she took it home.

* * *

Down below, Derek dropped a glass as Hansel yodeled again. His angry eyes blazed holes into the ceiling. Laughter sounded behind him, and he turned his venomous gaze upon Bobby and Elvira. "Shut up or I'll have both your jobs!"

Elvira swirled the blood around in her mug. She smiled sweetly at Bobby, who stood on the other side of the counter, and Lorne, who sat beside her. Then her black eyes turned with a vicious glare upon Derek. "Sweetheart, we only stay here because of Hansel already, and without us, you know your money wouldn't be rolling in."

He glared at them and stalked away, hating the fact that they were right.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Cole turned his sign around on his window, stating that he was now closed. He locked the door and pulled the shade. He walked into the back room. There were six boxes waiting, each with a different destination. His helpers had not arrived. They usually came before he closed. He figured they must be handling some kind of business and would come soon.

He thought back over the events of the day and smiled when he remembered Piper's reaction. He could hardly wait to get another chance to talk to the beautiful woman. He had plans and could only hope that she would go along with them. It had to start small and then they could build on it, but if things went the way he had them planned, he'd have her out of Blanche's establishment and into his own, with any good luck, within a couple of months.

He walked over to a closed door. It was never open for the public, at least not yet. Just inside the door he picked up a waiting lantern and lit it. He looked around the room. Two tables were covered with white table clothes. He still needed three along with the matching chairs. He wondered if Clark had made him any new tables and made a mental check to see if any were ready. He wanted everything to be perfect when he sprung the room on Piper. He could imagine the twinkle in her eyes and the smile that would light up her face.

He walked over and glanced out one of the windows that had a lacy curtain on it. Were his people coming? He could only wonder at the delay. He walked around the room, touching the two tables and the chairs and thinking of his beautiful lady. He hoped she would not scream and run from him in fright when he surprised her with it.

He had every intentions of making things better for her and her sisters. If only he could find some way to contain Phoebe before she latched on to one of the no-account wastrels that lingered about the town! He didn't want her coming up in the family way, and he knew that Piper worried about it every day. Yes, he'd definitely have to go and check with Clark, maybe later.

He heard boots stomping on the back porch and made a hasty retreat from the room, blowing out the lantern and closing and locking the door with a key that he slipped into his waistcoat pocket. He smelled rain on the air as he opened the door to greet his friends. "How are you tonight?" he asked of the blonde male in the lead. "I was getting worried. Is everything okay?"

"There was a ruckus out at the Kent farm," he said in way of explanation while grasping the kind shopkeeper's offered hand. He gave him a firm squeeze through his thick glove but did not elaborate on what had delayed his friends and himself. He looked back to where his best friend waited while his sister dismounted. Like her, he was dressed entirely in black tonight, as much for the mission at hand as for the fact that today was the anniversary of the day they had lost their father.

For a moment, memories played through Trent's mind, and emotions shone in his blue eyes though his tongue remained silent. His father had been the best man the world had ever known, and Thunder would have fully believed in what they were doing here this night. Convincing Trina that they should be spending their night delivering goods to needy families in secret was an entirely different matter, however, especially when she was in one of her moods.

He couldn't blame his sister, not really. This day of the year was always trying enough for them, but he could still smell the blood that had rafted up from the chicken house at the Kent's. There had been mutilated bodies, feathers, and blood strewn everywhere, and even now he stomped some more dirt off of his boots and, in doing so, managed to rid himself of yet another feather.

Trina spoke not a word as she dismounted from her black stallion; only her eyes shone of her distaste for this operation. She looked at Cole as though she saw right through him when, in truth, she only wished she could. There was something different about the man. She had known that for a while, but she had not yet managed to deduce what exactly it was. Her fingers itched for her gun as she strode forward, silently placing herself between Cole and Carlos.

Carlos was trying to rub the smell of the blood from his nose. He even had some splattered on his cheek. The mutilation had been horrible. He knew that some one was going to have to go and hunt down those coyotes and hoped that he was not a member of the party. He smiled at Trina's back.

For some reason, she didn't like Cole. He didn't know why. Over the years he had found her to be an extremely good judge of character, but he couldn't see anything wrong with Cole. In fact, he kind of liked the guy. Could Trina be attracted to him? Was that why she was acting so stand-offish from him? He wasn't about to ask.

He had grown up with Trent and Trina, and while Trent was his brother, Trina had always been the love of his life. Sometimes he had had other inclinations, but he always returned his eyes back to Trina. She was his unattainable star. He knew that she didn't feel the same way about him and rather looked upon him as though he was one of her brothers, but any way he could be near her, no matter what she thought as long as it was good of him, he didn't mind.

He liked delivering the goods, as did Trent. He couldn't figure out why Trina hated it. He'd have to ask her one day, but now was not the time. He almost laughed out loud as the feathers continued to float off of Trent's pants and boots. He had gotten the worst of the crime scene at the Kent farm.

Cole smiled at every one. "Thank you so much for helping me and keeping it quiet. With your help, we have managed to help the six families to continue, and they don't know who we are. That is the best way to keep it. If they found out, they might not take it, and as we all know, they desperately need it." He turned and walked further back into his house, knowing that they were following him.

"You say the Kent's farm was attacked?" He was quiet for a moment. He wondered what kind of animal was stupid enough to attack such a well-protected farm. He hoped the attacks would not continue.

Carlos followed behind Cole until he reached the boxes. There were two for each of them, and he tried to figure out which was the heaviest of the boxes. Spying the two he figured was the heaviest, he tried to pick them up together.

Trina remained constantly on full alert while her twin talked to Cole. Trent didn't tell the man that he had not said the farm was attacked but only explained that the coyotes had hit it, as they had a few of the other farms in the surrounding countryside. There was something about being around Cole that made the hairs on Trina's arms stand on end. She'd tried many times to tell herself that it was just because he was a stranger and strangers could not be trusted, but it had never worked. Trent and Carlos may like the man, but she continued to wait for any sign as to his true purposes, knowing that one day he would be revealed for being whatever he was and vowing to be there on that day. She loved her guys, but sometimes they could really be blinded.

She was thankful to Sheriff Walker for not trying to hide the truth from her when she had been attacked by something no one in this shop would believe in. They had said it was a rabid animal then, but she had known better and Walker had not lied to her. She knew Vampires could not be the cause for the chicken attacks, but whereas it was doubtful that Vampires could be responsible, a Werewolf could most certainly be on the guilty list. She hated hunting, but she knew it wouldn't be long before a hunting party was started to go after the animals. She would have to be on that group.

She waited to pick up her boxes as she watched Carlos get his load and head out. Her eyes moved constantly around the shop, searching for any evidence that might explain the feeling she had about Cole but seeing none. Yet again, as she watched Trent talk and laugh with the man, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was because he was a stranger. She only knew one stranger who she trusted, and as for the rest of the world, she'd only trust outsiders when they earned her trust and they'd have to work a lot harder for it than her ex-fiance had.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Trina's eyes flashed with memories. Her cheeks burned with the remembered embarrassment of discovering that nearly the whole town had slept with the man she'd thought had loved her. Quickly grabbing her boxes, she snapped at Trent, "Come on. We'd better get going before the rain starts. We're gonna get soaked enough as it is."

Trent sighed inwardly at his sister's tone and gave Cole an apologetic look. "It really is a good thing you're doing here, Mister Turner," he said again before turning and grabbing up the two boxes that were left, which were also the lightest load, and following Trina out.

Cole sighed. He knew Trina didn't like him. He liked her and the fire that he sensed was in her. He knew that she would always protect the two men she was with. They were her brothers, although one . . .

Cole shook his head. He had picked up something from him, but he wasn't going to go there. It was a secret. He didn't know what exactly had alerted him to the fact that the dark man had taken more than a brotherly interest in the blonde man. Maybe it was because he always left him the lighter load. He smiled secretly to himself as he locked the door. He was thankful for the help that they had given him and knew that they would help him in the future.

Now it was time to get that order off for the new item he had been looking in the catalog at and daydreaming about. He thought he had enough money to buy the stove. It was supposed to be the latest, greatest, and extremely easy to use. The price had been a bit steep, but nothing was too good for his Piper.

Reaching the kitchen and what was his living quarters, he moved the table slightly, lifted a board, and pulled out a jar of money. He counted it and then added a ten that he had made that day. It was just what he needed.

Replacing the money, the picture, and then the board, he realized he would also have to make a business trip. Who would watch his store for him? He wondered if Clark would like to earn some extra money. He had helped him in the past with the store.

He was so happy he could dance! He just knew that Piper would fall in love with the stove if it turned out to be half as good as the advertisement promised. He hoped the rain would hold off a while yet. He definitely had to go and see Clark.

Slapping his hat on his head, he made a hasty run for the stables. He hoped that the rain would not catch him out, but he couldn't wait any longer. If Clark could come and keep the store, he could leave the very next day. The sooner he could go, the sooner he could return. When he entered the stables, he saw no one around. He quickly saddled his horse and headed for the Kent farm.

* * *

Trina paced the ground in front of the wagon, her hand resting on the hilt of her gun, as she waited for Trent and Carlos. She accompanied them to each house in turn but almost always let them take the offerings to the families' steps while she kept watch. They'd leave the wagon far enough from the house so that no one would hear them coming and continue the rest of the way on foot. Trina would let the guys go ahead, just in case some one did spy them, and stayed behind for a number of reasons. Not only did she not want to have to deal with the gratitude of the families if they were ever discovered, but she knew that the smell of the horses would bring certain animals crawling even faster than they would go after humans. She was the only one of the three prepared to deal with such, and so she stayed behind, waiting, watching, guarding, and waiting some more.

Trina reached the end of her line in front of the wagon and horses and paused, staring off into the pitch black of the night. There was something in the air tonight, something powerful that kept her hairs standing up and her guard screaming at full alert and smelled of lightning. The storm would be huge when it hit, and she only hoped that they were done with their deliveries by then. Why they couldn't have waited another night, she didn't know, but arguing with Trent when he had his mind made up about a do-gooder deed was pointless. He'd won the argument with stating the fact that their father would want them to do this, and rather than speak badly of their father on the anniversary of his death and remind Trent that Thunder might have wanted him out on a dark and stormy night giving goods to the needy but would have insisted she stay home, Trina had finally, begrudgingly agreed to the task.

She blew at her bangs as she turned around and started walking again. At least she didn't have to worry about Trent ever trying to treat her like a damsel. She'd saved his butt more times than either of them could count, and she planned on spending the rest of her life with him and Carlos and continuing to do that for as long as they should need her. The only real problem came in trying to keep them safe from themselves.

Thunder rumbled again, and lightning flashed. The storm was still a ways off but was coming closer. She wondered if their hometown had felt the storm and how much damage it had caused. Were Walker, Trivette, and the others even now out there repairing homes and saving lives? She missed their old friends so much at times that it became a physical ache within her, but she'd had no choice. She'd had to get away from the embarrassment and the memories, and Trent and Carlos had followed her. They still talked about returning home sometimes, but she wasn't ready.

The wind whistled through her long, black duster, and Trina slipped a silver canteen out of an inside pocket on her coat. She took a quick sip, enjoying the burn of the whiskey as it ran down within her and coiled around her stomach, burning out some of the pain in her heart as it made its move, then quickly hid it again. She'd never hear the end of it from Trent if he caught her drinking tonight.

A sound caught her ears, and Trina looked up, her blue eyes narrowed. Her horse tossed his head, and she moved to him, stroking his long, velvety nose reassuringly. "It was just the wind," she assured him even while she wondered about the scream.

* * *

The wind had picked up so strongly that Carlos almost dropped his last box. It felt good making the deliveries, and while he would have never thought of doing it on his own, he liked doing it when he had company. Eerie noises in the night bothered him, and the scream that he now heard made the hair on his arms stand up. Who was killing who or _what_ was killing who?! Had the chicken varmints attacked again? He moved even closer to Trent. Nothing would get his buddy!

He knew that if he had run back to Trina, as he so protectively wanted to do, she would have been amused at his fear and furious with him for abandoning Trent. He wanted to get away from here. He wanted to go home where lanterns and a nice, warm fire waited! He was thankful that the scream was not repeated. Seeing that Trent had reached the safety of the wagon, Carlos now beat a hasty retreat. Who would want to live out here in this God-forsaken area, any way?!

Trent dusted his gloves off for the millionth time that night, the smell of blood and dead chickens still assailing his nostrils. His head was turned up in the direction the scream had come from, his blue eyes holding an intent purpose. He opened his mouth to speak, but Trina cut him off.

"No," she said determinedly.

"No what?" Trent asked, looking at his twin.

"No, _little_ brother, we are _not_ going to investigate that. It was just the wind."

"It was a scream."

"It was the wind screaming."

"It sounded more like a child."

"Then let the kid scream and his parents deal with him," she told him. She had known he was going to say that it sounded like a child, and she grimaced, knowing just as well that there was not going to be any talking him out of his latest hare-brained idea.

"Trina, a kid shouldn't be out here at night, especially not with a storm coming!"

"And neither should we, Trent!"

"That's not a kid," Carlos muttered. "Couldn't be. No one would let their kids be out this late at night with a storm coming. Trent, we need to go home." He dropped his voice to a low whisper and told him, "We need to get Trina out of this weather," hoping that, if nothing else, would work but knowing all the while that Trent would have them out there looking for the lost child.

"It was a child," Trent persisted, his gaze telling both Trina and Carlos that arguing was futile, "a lonely, scared child who needs our help. Carlos, you take Trina home and get her out of this weather." He moved to the fastenings of the wagon where they held to his horse. "I'm going to go find that child."

"Trent," the other two spoke as one, "you're not going alone!"

Trent looked up at them with a grin that made Trina growl and fight the urge to slap his face and Carlos want to shake him. The Mexican grasped the footrest instead to keep from shaking Trent. Did he really think that they would leave him alone in this mess?! Who was he kidding, and why did he think that they were idiots enough to leave Trent alone, knowing full well that he'd be the next one who'd have to be rescued?!

"I don't even know which direction the scream came from," Carlos told Trent, one last, forlorn hope coming to the surface. "It didn't happen but once. Maybe he was getting a spanking. Can't we just go home?" he asked hopefully.

Trent opened his mouth to respond, but another lonely, heart-wrenching wail cut through the night. He looked at Carlos with one brow raised in triumph. "Still think it's a spanking?"

"It may not be a spanking," Trina groused, mounting, "but there will be one before the night's out, Virgin Boy."

Trent cut his eyes at his sister. "Don't call me that!"

She shrugged. "If you can drag us out to play hero in weather like this, I can dang sure call you whatever I want."

Carlos' dark eyes cast around, straining against the darkness of the night but not seeing any one coming to the help of the screaming child. "We'll have to go," he said at last. "You lead the way, Trina," he added, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was better at tracking than he was. He'd follow her anywhere, even if he didn't want to do the task they were assigned. He climbed shakily into the wagon.

Trina glared at the men. "I oughta lead you both home where you belong." She knew that once the storm started, neither of them would be able to find their way out of a wet burlap bag. Nonetheless she turned her horse in the direction of the scream and took off at a fast trot. She preferred galloping but knew that the wagon would be unable to keep up if she did so.

It started to rain not long after they began following the frightened child's screams, and when it did, it poured. Soon Trina's long, blonde hair was sticking to her, and she shivered inside her duster. She fought to keep her teeth from chattering and slipped more shots of whiskey that she knew her brother could not see in the darkness. Thunder boomed, and lightning flashed. It was only her reassuring hands stroking her steed that kept him from running and her whispered words that helped to still his flinches. Every time she thought she might stand a chance of talking Trent and Carlos out of this insane rescue plan, the child screamed again, and Trina sighed once more, knowing the only way to get her brothers out of this mess was to save the child first.

* * *

Cole arrived at the Kent farm totally soaked. His rotten bad luck, as usual, had caused the thunder clouds to burst right on top of him. By the time that he had knocked on the Kent's door, he was sneezing and wondering why he always managed to bring rain down upon himself. An ashen-faced Martha met him at the door, hope in her eyes. "What brings you here?" she asked Cole.

"I have come to see Clark about a matter of business."

"He's not here. He's missing!" She had been struggling not to cry, but now the tears ran down her face. "He and Jonathan are both out in this mess, and I just don't know what to do!"

Cole found his arms had gone around Mrs. Kent and he was patting her gently on the back. "How long's Clark been missing?"

"It's only been a couple of hours, but he was just going to the barn! When he didn't come back, Jonathan went to look for him. Now they're both gone!" she sobbed.

"If I knew more about the area, Mrs. Kent, I'd be more than happy to go look for Clark. I might get lost out there, and then they would have to come look for me. I'll keep you company, and hopefully, they won't be too long."

She nodded, thankful not to be alone on this horrible night.

Cole clenched his hands in futility. If he transformed, he could find Clark and Jonathan and bring them back to safety, but if he changed, they'd be sure to get a trace on him. He set about making both of them a hot cup of coffee, hoping it would settle her nerves and calm his as well. He hoped the Kent males would soon return and that his young friends had found shelter in the storm. He hated to think that they, too, could be lost out there.

Martha set down at the kitchen table, her hands shaking, and she began to pray. Cole did not speak aloud but set the cup of coffee in front of her and sat across from her. Time seemed to drag on forever.

* * *

Blue eyes pierced the darkness of the night as the wagon driver leaned forward, shifting his body with every turn he led the wagon through. For now, his past was forgotten, his future an unconcerning mystery, and only the present remained. His full attention was on surviving the storm as his team charged on through the ripping winds, roaring thunder, and slashing rain and dodged every falling tree and mudslide that entered their path.

The wagon rattled, and for one moment, he began to worry that it might become unlatched and lose the valuables therein. He couldn't afford to lose them. He would _not_ lose them. The thought had barely entered his mind when a scream split the air. He looked up, his blue eyes wide with fright. His father had found him!

Had his mind been thinking clearly, Lex Luthor would have realized what an absurd notion that was and placed the voice with the scream as being a much smaller, frailer, and far less dangerous individual. That would have been a month ago, but it had been two months since Lex had been on the run, too afraid to stop until he got as far away from his father and his controlling powers as he could. As it was, the thought barreled through his mind with the force of a bullet, and fear gripped him. He would not go back!

He redoubled his efforts to go forward as lightning cut through the sky ahead. The bolt struck a tree, and fire sprang from the noble pine. It crashed down directly into the path ahead, and the horses screamed as they slid to a stop. Lex did not realize, nor would he have ever admitted it if he had, that his voice mingled with theirs as he thought he saw the smoky outline of a man within the fire. Lionel Luthor reached out for his son, and Lex screamed at the horses to move, warning them that Lionel would as surely make them into glue as he would have Lex's own life for his betrayal.

The horses needed no encouragement for they were already whipping around, tossing the wagon up against the sides of the hills as they did so. Lex heard the items within rattle as though they were falling out of the back end, but he couldn't afford to go back for them, not now, not with his father baring down on him. Instead he called encouragements to the horses to run, and run they did, tearing through the night as though all the Demons in Hell were nipping at their hooves.

Trees continued to be struck down, falling into their pathway and forcing them to take more new turns until Lex no longer had any clue where they were. Still they charged on, and he dared not look back for if he looked back, his father would surely snatch his soul from his very body. Eventually, through the flashes of lightning that illuminated their surroundings, Lex deduced that they were on a path winding up a mountain, but by the time he'd realized that the end of the path was coming close, there was nothing that he could do but hold on for the life he knew was about to leave him.

The horses turned one final time, and for a split second, Lex thought he might have some hope left. He should have known better for his hopes had always proved false. The wagon split from its harness. He screamed as he was thrown over the side of the mountain. Items rained all around him as the thunder boomed, sounding like an All-Powerful God laughing at mere mortal man and his foolishery.

Lex scrambled helplessly for something, anything to hold on to but could not find a hold. Weapons, pitchers, furniture, clothing, and antiques fell all around him, and he could already hear them smashing on the rocks down below. He grimaced, knowing that that would be his fate but refusing to give in and scream again. The safe dropped by him like a freight train, and Lex reached out, wrapping his arms around his father's savings.

This plan had been meant to spell the end of Lionel Luthor, not his son's, but it seemed that his father would have the last laugh, just as he'd always wanted. Then a picture dropped by him, and Lex forsook his hold on the safe to grab the oil painting instead. His mother's face smiled up at him, and all he could think was how sorry he was that he had failed her. Lightning struck yet again, and Lex's world went black as he felt gentle hands covering him. It was all right, he thought. He was ready. If it meant being reunited with his mother, he was ready . . .

**To Be Continued . . . **


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Clark had been walking forever, calling Bessie, who had knocked down her door and fled, in the storm. His black hair was plastered to his skin, and he did not know that his appearance resembled more that of a Demon than a human. When a wagon had almost overrun him in the pitch black night and its owner had left screaming, he had laid chase.

The horses had run. They couldn't see where they were going. Clark ran. He couldn't see where he was going, but instinct guided him well over the terrain where he had grown up. He jumped over fallen trees, knowing that he would have to stop the horses in their mad dash or their owner would surely be killed.

As screams continued, he raced madly behind the wagon, dodging things that fell off as he went, not knowing what they were but that the storm would surely destroy them. He could barely see the wagon, and still the horses ran, neighing in their fright, and the man continued to scream. Was he hurt? Clark wondered. All thoughts of Bessie had slipped his mind, so intent was he upon reaching the man in time.

Through a bolt of lightning, Clark could see the wagon come to a teetering stop and then begin to fall. Where was the man in all the chaos? The horses ran pass him, the riggings almost plowing him down in their haste. He'd try to catch them later. He knew that they would eventually run themselves out. The man was more his concern now.

Another bolt of lightning accompanied by an ear-splitting roar of thunder revealed the man falling off the cliff. Clark ran so fast that he did not realize at first that he was now in the air. He floated through the air with the greatest of ease, scarcely thinking that he was flying, and then he was with the man. His hands closed over his. The painting of a beautiful woman was between them.

He stopped their fall, despite the rain of things that still continued to fall from above, and then the wagon came hurtling down. He barely managed to get the frightened man to safety. He looked down into the man's face and figured he must have fainted for he seemed to be unconscious. He feared that the lightning might have hit him.

Flying back up to the top of the cliff, Clark landed, laid the handsome stranger gently on the grass, and knelt beside him. He reached out tentatively and touched his neck, feeling for a pulse. A faint pulse was all he got. {The lightning must have hit him,} Clark deduced. {I've got to get him to help.} Picking the man gently back up into his arms and holding him close, he ran as fast as he could, heading for the town doctor. Upon reaching the doctor's house, he rapped upon the door, never once letting go of the still man.

* * *

Trina glared at the offending tree branches ahead of her. They were shaped like a human hand pointing up, and she could easily imagine one particular twig being the middle finger standing at alert. "Trina," Trent called.

"Don't say it, Trent," Trina snapped. She knew they were lost, and she had done it to them! It was the confounding screams of the child that had caused her to become so bewildered. They were louder in this spot than anywhere else, but yet they could find no child here. It sounded as though the kid was screaming from somewhere higher up, but all the trees were empty, even the birds having left their homes behind due to the continued disturbances despite the storm.

"We're lost, aren't we?"

"Yes, Virgin Boy," Trina shot back, her blue eyes blazing, "we're lost, and I told you not to say it!"

"It's okay, Trina," Trent reassured. "You're doing the best you can."

But the best she could wasn't good enough. Her father had always told her she could never be as good as a man in all the ways of survival that mattered to her. Markus had told her loud and clear with his actions that she wasn't a good enough woman to keep a man interested except for her dear, sweet, and innocent Carlos. She wasn't good enough.

The lightning lit up the mountain and made it as bright as day, and there hanging, from the very tip-top of it, dangling out into the open, lightning-filled sky was the kid who was screaming. Carlos spied him first for while Trent and Trina had been arguing, he had been looking further and further upward. "MADRE DE DIOS!"

How were they ever going to reach him?! He was hanging from a dead oak tree that had fallen down during the storm. None of them were light weight enough to climb on that thing. Carlos wondered how on Earth the kid had ever gotten in such a dangerous predicament in the first place.

Carlos' shocked cry brought all Trina's thoughts to a screeching halt. She and Trent looked at him immediately, their eyes filled with worry and their faces with fear. Slowly, fear forming a tight ball in their throats, they looked up until at last they saw the kid. The color drained from both their faces. "SWEET JESUS!" Trent yelped while Trina breathed, her voice shaking, "OH MY GOD!"

"What do we do now?!" Carlos cried. "It's going to take some one who's small enough to go out there without dislodging that tree from its holding, and we're too heavy!" The fear in his eyes as he looked at Trina let her know that he didn't know what to do and was wishing that she would take charge. He was much better at following orders than giving them and knew she'd have some sort of a plan. Trina always had a plan. They might not always work, but she always had at least one.

His words made sense, Trina reflected as she dismounted, forcing her moves to be steadier than she felt, but they had no one else. "One of you is going back to town and you're going to get help." Her calm words tried to hide her racing nerves, but the men knew her better than to think she was any less afraid than they were.

Trent swung smoothly from his saddle as Trina fetched rope from one of her saddlebags. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "Carlos is right! We can't reach him!"

Trina looked at her brother while her hands instinctively made the lasso. "I have to try. It's going to take hours to get to town and bring somebody back. In that time, the child could fall."

An aching hollow hit Trent full in the chest. His blue eyes grew ashen with fear. "Tr-Trina, you can't -- "

Trina stood, facing her brother as the wind whipped at her clothes and rain slapped her in the face. "I have to, Trent. I'm the lightest of the three of us."

Carlos' heart jumped into his throat. He knew Trina was right. She was the lightest of the three of them, and they had to try to save the child for they might very well never make it back with help in time. It was a miracle the boy had managed to hold on to the tree so long already, and miracles were not something any of the trio were accustomed to being granted.

He looked at Trent and knew that he could not tear the twins apart yet some one had to go for help. "I'll go to town. Give me your horse," he told Trent. He looked longingly at Trina, and when her eyes met his, his heart skipped another beat and his fear grew at the uncertainty he saw shining therein. He couldn't lose her! She might never love him the way he loved her, but he couldn't lose her! Without Trina's light shining in his otherwise dark life, there would be nothing left for Carlos to hang on to to survive a world that all too often hated him just for his skin color.

"Carlos -- " Trina had to try to speak his name twice before she actually managed to whisper it. There was so much she wanted to tell him, she thought as emotions swelled within her pounding heart. So much, but yet there was no time. Every second they spent delaying their attempts to rescue the child was another second that he could slip, and one slip was all it would take to send him spiraling down to the ground and to his death.

Carlos gazed into Trina's eyes. Words swirled around his mind of how much she meant to him and how much he loved her and didn't want to lose her, but he dared not say any of them. Instead, he told her only, "Be careful," and forced himself to turn away and mount. {Don't let her fall, please!} he prayed all the way into town, whipping the horse with his voice and driving him as fast as he could despite the thunder and lightning that seemed to intensify all the greater.

* * *

Clark pounded several times on the doctor's door, and when there was still no answer, he maneuvered the stranger he held so that he could get his hand on the door. He turned the handle, and it swung easily open. Walking inside, he laid the injured man on a rug in front of a blazing fire. Somebody was here, and he'd find them. The man had to have help.

Clark proceeded to slowly make his way from room to room, searching for any one to help and calling out. Thunder and rain pounded the house, shaking the walls. He was surprised to note that there seemed to be no windows for lightning did not break the darkness. He felt as though a thousand eyes were upon him, but he could see no one. The only answers he received came from the howling of the wind outside.

Every now and then, he heard a click as of toenails of an animal, but each time he whirled around, nothing was there. He checked all the rooms before moving to the cellar. Opening the door to the cellar, he peered into the pitch black darkness and called down. A growl and then a howl were his only answers. Clark's eyebrows rose. What kind of a dog could growl like that? he thought, shivers racing up and down his spine.

He started to head down the stairs, wishing he had a light. About midway down the stairs, he heard something scurrying overhead and thought it must be one heck of a big bat or spider or . . . what else? he thought, his fear rising even more as the growls started coming at a more frequent pace. His voice trembled as he called the doctor's name again, and he almost shot out of his boots when the dog howled.

No one was home, but he needed help! Why didn't somebody answer, and what was that thing that kept growling and howling? Was it really only a dog? He'd never heard any dog sound so . . . fierce! He was shaking as he continued down into the deep darkness.

Suddenly, something dropped down in front of him. He still couldn't see it, but he heard its feet hit the stairs directly in front of him. Clark dropped back instinctively, a yelp breaking free from his throat. Whatever the thing was, it was huge, bigger than any man he'd ever seen before!

Something furry brushed him, and Clark fought not to scream. How in the Hell had a bear gotten in here?! A match flashed on, and Clark's scream hurtled from his lungs. His heart almost leapt out with it. Whatever the thing before him was, one thing was for certain: It was no bear, nor was it any other animal he'd ever seen before! It towered before him and was covered in blue fur.

Clark never got a look at the beast's face for, with another scream splitting his mouth wide open, he turned and fled back up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind him. The howls were growing longer and louder now, and they shook the whole house even more than the thunder had. Indeed he could no longer even hear the thunder for the howls screeching from below.

He had to get out of here, but he couldn't leave the man! He instinctively took to the air again, pausing only long enough to scoop the injured man from the floor, and then raced with everything he had in him out the door and as far away as he could get from the monster that had to have eaten the doctor!

The doctor had to have been eaten, Clark thought, for what else could explain his absence and the creature in his home? What _was_ that thing, and why had it gone after the doctor? Where was he going to get the injured man help now? He had to get him help, but where?

The only place Clark could think of to go to was home. Nowhere else guaranteed safety or help, and with the doctor gone, there was nobody else he could turn to for help who would know anything better about how to help him than his parents. He would take the stranger home, put him in the spare bedroom, watch over him through the night, and then try to find the doctor again in the morning. Maybe the thing hadn't eaten the good doctor. Maybe he was somewhere else, helping some other poor, unfortunate soul, or maybe he'd managed to escape the monster. If Clark couldn't find him in the morning, he didn't know what he would do, but regardless, he had to get the man out of the storm and he certainly couldn't return to the doctor's home. He could only pray that he would find the doctor alive, because he knew of no one else who could help the man and didn't want him to die.

Clark got home a lot faster than he'd left it, meeting his father on the way back. He was running then, having returned to the ground in case any one was looking out into the night. Jonathan was leading Bessie home, and Clark barely gave a thought that he was glad the pregnant cow was okay. He felt his father give him a weird look as he raced by him but never slowed, the thought of the monster still fresh within his terrified, young mind.

Jonathan had seen a flash of what his son held as he'd ran by him and wondered what he was bringing home now. Clark had always been one to bring home any kind of stray he found out in the wilderness, but a man was certainly something new. He shook his head, splattering more rain from his hair across his face as he murmured, "Children."

* * *

With each inch she climbed, another memory hit Trina. She knew she was probably climbing to her death, but she had to try. All the people she'd ever respected had taught her the value of life and the importance of saving those who could not save themselves. Unlike the families Trent, Carlos, and Cole were so bent on helping, the child towering above her was truly helpless.

His frightened screams gave her the courage to continue pushing herself further up the side of the mountain. Trent had told her they should try to use the trail, but the trail would take too long to reach the kid. It was a miracle the boy had managed to hold on so long, and Trina knew his strength had to be failing. Any white child would have already fallen by now, but the Indians taught their children strengths that most white people never possessed.

That thought brought Trina back to Cordell Walker, the man who had taught her to climb as she was now doing. Where her father had refused to teach her anything and had her mother teach her the things he felt a woman should know, Walker had taught everything she knew about everything that was important. She wondered if he would have taught her everything he knew if she could have stayed.

Sometimes, she thought perhaps she should have stayed, but then she was once more reminded of the way most of the town had treated her after Markus had left her at the alter. Like her father, they had all thought that she wasn't good enough. She wasn't a good enough woman to keep his interest. She wasn't smart enough to see through the way he had misused her. She was a laughing stock to the women who had slept with him and frigid to the men.

Everybody had their own story as to why her engagement to Markus had failed, why she wasn't a good enough woman for him, everybody but her family and few select friends. Of all the women in the town, only her mother, Miss Walker, and Senorita Cooke had not looked down upon her in the aftermath of what the town dubbed, instead of the engagement Trina had meant it to be, the Malloy affair. When she had picked up her little sisters in tears because of the jeers of their classmates and heard her mother defending her to the point she'd almost gotten into a fight at the general store, Trina had known she'd had to leave.

She had left in the cover of night, but Carlos and Trent had come after her. She'd tried to persuade them to return, but they continued to refuse to go home until she was ready to go with them. In her absence, the jeers at her mother and siblings had stopped, and so Trina stayed where she was, keeping tabs on her family through monthly visits with Sheriff Walker.

Trent always sent money home, and Trina wished she could do so but could not keep down a normal job. She helped enforce the laws more than Trent or Carlos did, or even the two of them combined, but Sheriff Cassidy was too much like her father. He felt that the outlaws would look down upon a woman being on his team and would make Los Almas an easy target due to her presence.

Her upper lip curled back as thunder shook the side of the mountain. She should have told him to forget about her help and left him to hang, but she would never abandon Trent and Carlos and they had developed a liking for the man even more than they had for Cole. It wasn't that she disliked Cassidy as much as she did Cole; it was only that his refusal to allow her to officially be part of the team irked her to no end and reminded her constantly of her father's opinions, opinions she was thankful Cordell had not shared.

She wished Walker was here now. If he had been, the boy would already be safe on the ground down below. She had never seen any one be as much one with his gun and nature as Walker was. Maybe if she had stayed, she would now be as good as he was, but she doubted anybody could have been. Walker was truly one of a kind.

Thunder blasted the mountain again, and lightning struck two feet below her. Trina shook her head and hurried on up the mountain, her heart hammering. Sometimes she really wished she could just cut off her memories and forget her past entirely, but there were days, like today, that every quiet moment brought more memories to her mind.

She had no time to think back, she told herself sternly, as lightning lit the sky again and the child cried once more. She had to focus or all would be lost. She tried to call to the kid, but the wind snatched her words away. She flattened herself into the mountain as a gust nearly ripped her off, then slowly continued climbing.

* * *

Where to go? Carlos thought frantically as he hit town. Where to get help? It was so late that neither Doctor Richards nor Sheriff Cassidy would be at their stations. He ran to the saloon that was so brightly lit up despite the heavy weather. He could hear voices singing. There was some kind of show going on, but he ignored it. Running to the front of the room, he yelled out, "I NEED HELP! A CHILD'S FALLEN OFF THE MOUNTAIN!"

Angry customers looked at him and tried to shush him. They could care less about a child caught out in the storm when Elvira, Mistress of the Dark and of many of their hearts or, at least, their lower portions, was on stage, shaking her full, pale breasts that were now clothed only in tassels. She and her dancers looked at the Mexican they knew was one of the Sheriff's Deputies. They wanted to help, but the show had to go on and, besides, they couldn't do anything to save the child. They figured the man needed the doctor, and Brendan Richards never came in here unless some one was dying within the tavern's walls.

Bobby turned around at the bar. He had had his back to the floor while cleaning dishes. He motioned Carlos to come forward and then asked him, "Where is the kid? How badly is he hurt?" He couldn't send for Brendan, though, Bobby thought. He was helpless on a night like tonight, at least helpless to help.

Carlos went to him and talked in a shaking voice, telling Bobby about the child in the storm and the chance that Trina might fall and never make it out of it with either one of them being alive. "I don't know what to do or who to ask for help! I can't go up there, and Trina's going after that child! The slightest wrong movement, and the tree's going to fall the rest of the way! Can't you think of any one who can help?" he asked, looking pleadingly up into his eyes.

"Only one person," Bobby told him, "and she usually doesn't help." The tears he could see the other man clearly fighting against moved him, and he tried to find a way to get the one person he knew could save the child and, hopefully, Trina as well involved. "Tell me something, Carlos. This boy you said is up there . . . How good of a look did you get of him?"

"It's an Indian kid," Carlos told him without hesitation. "Why? Does it make a difference? It's a child!"

"Actually," Bobby said with a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "it does." Carlos' mouth flew open to protest, but Bobby stopped him by telling him, "It means she'll help." He drew a bottle of tequila out, twirled it, and started to leave the bar.

"Hey, keep," one customer slurred, "where you goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere. I'm ready fer another beer." He followed the statement with a loud, smelly belch.

"Tell Derek to get it for you," Bobby told him.

"I don't wanna wait for him. I want you to."

"Too bad," he replied. The man started to rise from his stool but staggered and had to quickly sit back down. "Faith's order comes first, unless you want to argue with her about that."

"Faith?"

"Yeah."

"Nope. No argument here."

{And not much brain there either,} Bobby added silently as he raced up the stairs. He'd be surprised if the man was still conscious when he returned downstairs. The very moment he stepped foot on the next floor, Bobby started calling out, "FAITH! AN INDIAN CHILD'S IN TROUBLE!"

Carlos had followed Bobby upstairs and now waited to see if Faith really would take action in a helpful kind of way. He had helped to clean up her messes many times. It would be a miracle if she would help, but he could think of no one else.

* * *

She was almost there, Trina thought as she reached a hand up for a new hold. It was at that moment that something bright whizzed pass overhead. She looked up, blue eyes squinting through the rain to try to make sense out of what she saw. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Its colorful wingspan was as wide as a dozen condor's, and it was just as long. It seemed to blaze through the night sky, and then it was gone.

Trina's hand was resting in the hold, and as the bizarre creature disappeared from her sight, she went to move up. Her hand slipped suddenly, and she scrambled for a hold. Her eyes nearly shot out of her head as she saw a golden man sitting on the side of the mountain just above her hand. The handsome man smiled reassuringly. Her surprise exploded out of her in a scream, and even as she fought for a hold on the mountain and he reached a hand toward her, she fell . . .

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Trent yelled as he saw his twin fall. He raced around below and, having nothing to catch her with, finally settled to put himself underneath her, his arms raised. He knew he didn't stand a chance of catching her, but if his body at least softened her fall somewhat, maybe they'd be granted a miracle and she'd live. He prayed fervently while helplessly watching Trina drop out of the sky. His last thoughts were, {Lord, please let her live,} as she fell on top of him and sent him crashing into the ground . . . Darkness engulfed both twins.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

He lay still, feigning sleep. Gazing through slanted eyelashes, he could see the object of his thoughts and desires, the sad-eyed man whose name he knew only because of the mean-mouthed Derek: Hansel, his golden honey bear! He wished he could wipe the sadness of his eyes away so that he would cease to hurt so much. How could that low life Derek hurt some one so sweet? he wondered.

Jack had never had such sweet loving in his entire life, and not once but twice in such a short time! He could see himself all too easily falling in love with Hansel, but he couldn't let himself be the cause of more pain for his Knight. He wanted to call his name but instead lay watching him, cherishing each moment of being with Hansel for all too soon, it would come crashing down around his ears. He would come, and he'd have to run again. He didn't want to draw his wrath down upon his beloved honey bear.

He desperately wanted to taste his delicious nectar one more time! He would take care of Derek so he'd never hurt Hansel again! Then he would get gone before the ever infringing arrow sliced through his heart, making the last of his family an open target as well.

He shouldn't have come here, he chided himself, but he wanted to check on his brother and know that he was alright one last time. He had not thought he would have sent assassins to take him out; thanks to Hansel, they had failed. He knew he would come again soon.

Jack wanted to cry out at the unfairness of his life but knew it wouldn't change anything. He desperately wanted to have another chance to sup at his banquet -- one last drink from his honey, and he could die a happier man for _he had been loved_!

He felt his loins tighten and his stallion rear but still lay spellbound, watching the most beautiful man he had ever been lucky enough to be loved by gazing into the mirror. What did he see there? Jack wondered.

* * *

Hansel frowned as he gazed into the reflection of his face and touched his cheek gingerly. He had once thought himself handsome, but if he were handsome, why did Derek no longer love him? Why did he hit him? he thought, running his fingers down his nose and hearing Derek's furious words in his mind again.

Hansel tried not to flinch at the remembered rains of blows upon his body. Derek had screamed at him the last time they'd made love that he hated him yet had pounded into his body nonetheless. Hansel had cried as Derek had taken him roughly, his tears soaking his pillow. He loved Derek, and he had thought Derek had loved him.

Now he knew Derek did not know the meaning of love, and he was finally beginning to understand. It was possible for a man to be gentle, but Derek had never shown him gentility. Their unions had been fast and wild at first, growing more and more fierce. There had been some sweet and tender kisses, but always the ride had been fast and furious. Their meetings had only gotten worse.

Hansel had always accepted his sexuality, but Derek had never known he was attracted to men until he had rode into his life. He had confessed his doubts to Hansel, but Hansel had thought he'd kissed every one of them away. Derek hadn't mentioned them for a long time, but then, when they'd started to rake the money in and become popular in Los Almas, he had began to fret again.

What if they found out? What if the townsfolk knew they were gay? It didn't matter to Hansel. They could either accept him or throw him away. It wouldn't have been the first time people had tossed him away like yesterday's garbage, and he had learned that those who threw him to the wolves were not good people and were instead people he was better off not knowing. It bothered Derek, though, and his fears grew to anger.

That anger, Hansel reflected sadly, had grown to hatred at his own expense. Derek hated him not because of anything Hansel had done willingly, but because he was drawn to him in ways he felt he should not be drawn. He wanted Hansel, but yet he wanted to be straight. He wanted to be what the town would consider a good man.

Hansel ran a hand over his face. What had changed? he wondered, staring into his own baby blues. What had changed about him that had made Derek start caring what the outside world thought again? What had changed that made him no longer irresistible to his lover? What he had done, or perhaps not done, that kept Derek from being able to not put his own desires and happiness above caring what people thought of him?

He loved Derek, Hansel thought, but Derek hated him because he was the one man who had managed to stay . . . perhaps not in his heart but definitely in his desires. Yet the mysterious Gypsy he had picked up out of the streets last night did not hesitate to love him in the least. He cocked his head first to one side and then to the other as he examined his face. There had to be something that was still handsome about him, something that had drawn the Gypsy's interest, but what?

He felt again of his nose that had been broken so many times over the years that it was now permanently crooked. Derek had once told him it made him ugly and he should see about having it fixed with make up or something. There was no way to fix his nose, Hansel remembered telling him, and Derek had hit him again while telling him that it wasn't just his nose. It was his whole person.

But if he was ugly, why did Derek keep coming back? Hansel sighed, tears welling in his blue eyes. It just didn't make any sense! Why did Derek hate him? It couldn't be him! If it was, he wouldn't keep returning, and the Gypsy would not have just made sweet love to him!

Oh, and how sweet it had been! Hansel sighed again, but this time, the sigh was much happier. He had never been loved so well in all his life! He had never known such gentility before! His eyes trailed to his beautiful lover, who lay, still sleeping, in his bed. He'd had no qualms, no hesitations. He had loved him as though they were meant to be together and he was a most precious jewel that he ached to shine just right.

But why? He was a stranger to him. Was it to say "thank you" for saving his life? Was it because he just desperately needed a man, and his style of loving was breathtakingly sweet? Or could it be, by luck or fate or maybe even a miracle, that he was drawn to him, that he liked what he saw, that he really did think he was handsome, that he really did . . . care for him?

As he watched, Hansel saw his Gypsy's stallion rear to life again. His face lifted into a smile, and he moved on silent feet to leave his dressing table and go to the foot of the bed. There he leaned over and encircled the Gypsy's sword with his tongue. He tasted so sweet, sweeter than Derek, his brownies, or anything else he'd ever had before!

It was then that he heard Bobby's voice calling for Faith, and Hansel stiffened in an altogether different way. What was wrong now? he wondered, frowning. Something about a child falling off of a mountain? An Indian child! Only Little Wild Cat would dare to sneak away from his tribe in a storm of this magnitude!

Drawing his mouth slowly back off of his Gypsy's steed, Hansel kissed his head and gazed down at him. The man was truly, breath-takingly beautiful, and he realized that he still didn't know his name. "Sleep well, Sleeping Beauty," he whispered softly and headed quickly for his dresser.

* * *

Faith was curled on her side, watching Dawson sleep. He had tried very hard to keep pace with her and had come surprisingly close to succeeding, but what surprised her far more was that she found herself longing to taste of him again. She ran a hand down his hairless chest, her fingernails gently trailing over his skin. His hair was golden, and his skin pure white. He was as innocent as the day was long and so wet behind the ears that he had to have just gotten off the stagecoach that morning. There was no reason at all, other than her need for a lay after the shoot-out, that she should be drawn to him, and yet here she was, wanting a second ride.

What the heck? she thought with a shrug of her shoulders. She was Faith. She took what she wanted when she wanted and did with it exactly what she wanted. She slung one leg over his side and pressed her body down close against his. She rubbed herself across him, then started with his mouth. She was stroking her own fire quite well with the line of searing kisses she rained from his mouth, down his throat, over his chest and stomach, and to the dark growth of hair between his legs when a mouth opened out in the hall.

She tried to ignore Bobby at first as she swirled her tongue over first Dawson's right testicle and then his left. She caught his sword between her taut breasts and drew herself up along his length. She had almost completely blocked the bartender out when she heard the one word that demanded her attention: Indian. It was an _Indian_ child who had fallen off the mountain, and there was only one boy who would be foolish enough to be out in a storm like the one that was currently raging outside. Her mouth was a mere inch from Dawson's staff when she groaned, "Damn!"

* * *

"What's going on?" Jack asked Hansel. "Why are they calling for your sister?" He had heard something about an Indian child, but he had been so caught up in the rapture that Hansel was creating in him, that he wasn't exactly sure what was happening.

He had heard the storm raging without, but his own personal storm had been raging so violently within himself that he was having trouble pulling back to the reality of the gray, ugly world. Hansel had made it rosier and more beautiful than Jack could remember it ever being, at least not since he'd lost his family.

"If we're going out, I could use some pants?" he asked Hansel hopefully, praying that he wouldn't give him another pair of those silk things. They felt good, but he could never see himself riding in them or trying to rescue anybody with them on.

* * *

Dawson was about to explode! The mere touch of his wildcat was driving him over the edge, and yet she had pulled back and there was a lot of hollering going on! "Damn!" he muttered one breath behind Faith's. Too many stories, and all he wanted to do was to lay in the bed, continue to make love to Faith, and let the stories be damned!

She was drawing away from him now, and wherever she was going, he was going to follow her. He rolled off the bed and began to fumble, getting his pants on as quickly as he could. He didn't remember taking them off, and his longjohns were so entangled in his pants that he almost left them behind and wore only his trousers. He had always heard that doing so would chafe him, though, and he certainly didn't want to be chaffed now that he had a beautiful woman to ride him!

* * *

"We." The simple word made Hansel pause in surprise. He stood with only one leg in his pants and the other in mid-step, gazing back at the beautiful Gypsy who looked at him inquisitively. His heart skipped a beat. "We!" He had very little clue what was going on and knew, from the sounds of the storm outside, that it would be dangerous, but yet he wanted to be beside him! Derek had always stayed behind on the adventures he'd gone on with Faith, but his Gypsy wanted to come!

Hansel reached into his drawer, pulled out another pair of silk pants, and tossed them to him, wishing he knew his name. Instead of asking, he explained instead, "A child we know has fallen from the mountain. He's hanging on by a tree that's already dead and is bound to fall any second. A woman's trying to rescue him, but she's too big to make it out on to the tree. Faith will find a way, if we can get there in time."

It was then that Hansel heard his sister's door bang open. He jumped fluidly into his pants and was still pulling his shirt on over his blonde head when he went out the door. He was surprised to find Faith dressed.

Faith looked at Bobby and Carlos, one eyebrow arching at the sight of the Mexican. She'd always had a strong distaste for the law; otherwise she would have had Carlos by now. "Where?" She knew Dawson would be hot on her heels, but it was too dangerous for the boy where she was going. Only Hansel saw her lock the door behind her back.

Faith listened to the directions Carlos gave, then left the hall at a run while he was still asking her to save Trina. Trina had put her own neck on the line, and Faith couldn't care less about the white woman. Let the white people save her. She was after the child.

Faith was out of the inn by the time Hansel had managed to walk over to the door and unlock it. He stepped back, whistling innocently, and Bobby gave him a quick nod. He would take the blame for letting the kid out if Faith asked.

Jack had managed to get his pants and shirt on. It was silk. He liked the feel of silk on Hansel but didn't like it on him. Having no choice as he wasn't about to let Hansel go into the tumultuous storm alone, he chose to tolerate the outfit.

He found one boot and pulled it on. Finally spying the other one, he grabbed it and made it to the hallway just as Hansel unlocked the door. "Did you lock her in?" He grinned impishly at Hansel, wondering if he was trying to stop his sister or just slow her down.

"I don't have a death wish," Hansel quickly told his handsome, albeit confused, Gypsy.

Bobby grinned at that and made a silent note to thank Hansel's mystery man later. He only hoped Derek wouldn't chase the Gypsy away as he suspected he had the rest of Hansel's lovers. Hansel deserved a good man; maybe this Gypsy would prove to be the one.

"I'm Bobby Drake," he told him, offering the stranger his hand, "and this is Carlos Sandoval. I take it you haven't met Faith yet, but nothing stops that woman and lives." He looked curiously over at the door for the reporter hadn't come out of it. "Is he asleep?" he asked Hansel in surprise.

Hansel peered into the room, walked a few steps inside it, and took another look around. It was empty!

Taking the offered hand, Jack shook Bobby's hand. "My name's Jack Sparrow. It's nice to meet you." He kept watching Hansel from the back; he liked the back view as much as the front view.

He walked into the room, looked around, and then noticed that the window was up. He lifted the curtain and peered out into the rainy night. He couldn't see anything. "Your sister moves like a whirlwind, my friend. We'd better hurry. She may get herself into so much trouble we can't get her out of it!"

Hansel had smiled to himself when he'd heard his sweet Gypsy answer Bobby out in the hallway. He wondered briefly if Bobby had any clue the help he was giving him but figured his friend surely thought that he knew his lover's name. Hansel's grin grew at that. Jack was the only lover whose name he'd not known when he'd made love to him the first time, but he was also the best lover he'd ever had!

"Faith can get out of anything," he assured Jack, "but we want to be there for the show." He hurried out the door, thinking he'd be the one leading the way to the stables only to find that Carlos, like his sister's latest horse, was already gone.

"No sign of the kid?" Bobby asked. When Hansel shook his head, Bobby frowned. Hansel did not make any further comment as he returned to his bedroom just long enough to gather five rain slickers. He didn't know where the kid had gone but was certain they'd meet him again.

Returning to the hallway, he passed them out. Each was of a different color. He gave Jack a black one lined with silver and Bobby a blue that seemed to radiate coldness. It reminded him of the ice that his friend never seemed to run out of. Then temporarily dropping the other two slickers to the floor, Hansel donned his own rainbow one with silent thanks to his designer friend, Jean Luc, for insisting on making him a new one every rainy season.

Jack held the slicker at arm's length and looked at it. He had never seen one so dainty. {At least it isn't silk,} he thought to himself and slipped it on over his head. As it fell down around him, his eyes took in Hansel, who was wearing one of rainbow color. He wondered where Hansel had come up with all the strange but exciting clothes. He followed behind Hansel as he led the way to the stables.

* * *

Faith blasted into the stables and kept running as she reached the stall that held her horse. The mighty stallion whickered in greeting to her even as Faith bolted over the door. She jumped his back with a cry that set him running. Her horse was too big to get out of his stall with the door closed, but one touch of his hooves sent the door flying into a million pieces.

The owner of the stables slept in the back. He popped one dark eye open, his eyebrow arched. He recognized the heavy hoofsteps and the commanding voice of the rider. His companion moved on his shoulder and looked sleepily at him. He shut his eye as he told him, "Go back to sleep, Cat. It's just Faith." He immediately fell back asleep.

* * *

Dawson had been very quick to be on Faith's heels. His shirt had not even been buttoned. He had grabbed for the handle that she had shut so quickly in his face. She had locked him in! He had panicked. How could he get out? He had looked out the window and saw her running for the stables.

He had jumped out the window. He was determined she would not get away from him. He tore his pants as he came down off the roof and scratched his legs, but that did not slow him down. Once on the ground he looked around for a horse but didn't see any. He, too, ran for the stable, hot on Faith's heels, but the door bounced open as he got there and she almost ran him down. He fell back in a mixture of awe and shock as her horse reared on his hind legs, Faith keeping her perch on his broad, painted back with but one hand holding his wildly flowing mane. Then, like a flash of lightning, they were both gone.

Dawson didn't know much about horses. He wondered where the stablehand was. He had to catch Faith, but she was gone! He looked inside the first stall that he came to, but it was empty, the door not even open. The second stall had a horse, but his ears were laid back and his teeth were bared like he was fixing to bite him.

That's what Dawson thought of horses: They always wanted to bite him! Maybe he smelled good? Maybe he smelled like an apple to them? He did eat a lot of them.

The third stall he came to held an animal who appeared to be a lot more gentle. He couldn't figure out what it was. It wasn't a horse, so maybe his chances were better with it. But how to get a saddle on it?

It was then he heard something coming. It was so big that it sounded like a bull. He jumped into the stall, pulled the door closed behind him, and tried to be as quiet as he could. The animal munching on the hay in the stall threw a baleful eye upon him, almost as though he was telling him to get out of his stall and leave him in peace. He began to inch around his stall, getting his hooves just right. How dare a human come into _his_ stall! the animal was thinking. {I'll kick him into the middle of next week!}

Dawson was not aware of the situation that was about to unfold. He tried to make himself as small and quiet as possible. His wide eyes stared at the door as it was yanked open and a huge gun was pointed straight at him. He shook so badly his knees knocked together.

The man who held the gun towered over the trembling boy at 7 feet. His finger rested on the trigger of his gun. The tabby cat perched on top of his rippling, muscular shoulder looked at the young human with glowing eyes. "Speak your business, boy," the man known only as Bishop growled, "now."

"Faith!" he whimpered as he looked up in terror at the biggest monster he'd ever seen. He had a Demon for a pet! The glowing, green eyes spooked him as much as the huge man who dwarfed him. "I was supposed to go with her, but she left me! Can you get me a horse please?!" His voice was so high that it almost touched the roof.

Bishop slid his gun back into his holster, and the flashing lightning illuminated his grin. "Supposed to go with her, eh, kid? Did she know that?" He fought to keep from laughing at the boy. Faith always did manage to get some interesting characters attached to her!

"There -- There's an Indian kid in trouble! He fe-fell off the m-m-mountain!" Dawson managed to stammer out. "She forgot all about me! I didn't forget about her! I wanna go in case I can help her! She's just so fast she's hard to catch!"

Bishop did laugh at that; the sound was a deep, throaty rumble that seemed to shake the walls of the stables, especially as thunder chimed with it. "You don't know the half of it, kid." He reached out and snatched Dawson out of the stall just before the donkey's hooves could connect with his rear end. "That ain't very nice, Donkey. The kid's already spooked."

Donkey gave him his back with his nose once more in the hay.

"Th-Thanks!" Dawson stammered out. "What do you mean I don't know the half of it? Ain't no one wilder and more beautiful and more wonderful than Faith! No one's like Faith!" Stars seemed to bounce out of his eyes as he described her. "I just can't lose her! I just found her! Please?" He gazed into Bishop's face with rapture. "Help me catch her?"

"Kid, you're trying to hold on to dynamite," Bishop said with a shake of his head, but he couldn't help liking the boy. "I'd help ya out, but we've got us a problem. All the horses are spoken for." He jerked his thumb at the donkey in the stall behind Dawson. "And something tells me you two won't fit well together."

"Him?" Dawson asked, looking back at the donkey. "I can't even ride a horse! How am I gonna ride him? I thought maybe I could ride on tight enough to a horse, especially if it was gentle enough, that I wouldn't fall off."

Bishop looked down at the boy with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. His cat kneaded his shoulder, and Bishop knew he was amused as well. Then the doors of the stable opened again, and three men walked in. He'd known about Carlos coming for his horse while he had been stalking the greenhorn whose shoulder he still clamped, but Bishop was surprised to see Hansel, Bobby, and a Gypsy he didn't recognize coming in at this late hour. Then the big man grinned. He shouldn't have been surprised for where Faith went, Hansel usually did his best to follow. He was only glad to see that the blonde man's pain-in-the-ass partner wasn't along for the ride.

"Hey, Big B," Hansel called to Bishop, "don't hurt the kid. He's with us."

Dawson grinned gratefully at Hansel. "Faith almost ran over me! She's long gone! We'll never catch her!"

"What happened to your pants?" Jack asked him, eyeing the seat of Dawson's trousers that had been ripped out and was trailing cloth behind him. "Looks like you need the services of a doctor."

"I came out the window, and the roof kind of scraped me. I ain't got time for a doctor. I've gotta catch Faith!"

"Boy, kid, you sure have a one-track mind!" Jack shook his head.

Bobby laughed. "You should have waited," he told the boy.

"Yeah," Hansel agreed. "I unlocked the door, but you were already gone." He smiled at Jack, his blue eyes dancing with mirth despite the serious circumstances.

"He says there ain't any more horses, and I'm not riding that donkey! He tried to kill me! So how do we get to where Faith is?" Dawson asked.

Bishop shook his head and turned his eyes toward the ceiling. A kick was a far cry from a death blow! He chuckled to himself as he went to work saddling two horses. Faith's affair with this boy was really going to be a hot topic for the comedians in town!

"Why don't you ride with me?" Bobby offered.

Relief flooded Dawson. At last, a ride, and he didn't have to guide the horse! "Thank you!" He grinned at Bobby.

"Does that mean we get to ride together, honey bear?" Jack couldn't wait to sit behind Hansel and slip his arms around him. He didn't care how wild the ride was; he'd have another chance to hold him!

Hansel stared at Jack in shock, his breath taken away suddenly, while Bobby gave the kid a warning glare. One word out of the way, and not only would he smack him, but when Faith got back, Hansel's big sister would eat her little horsy and spit him out the bad way. When the boy didn't say anything bad, however, Bobby relaxed and gave him a smile and an acknowledging nod.

Hansel's smile was huge and seemed to light up the dark night. He couldn't believe his sweet Gypsy had talked lovingly to him in public! He gazed at Jack through blue eyes dancing with happiness that had been missing from them for far too long. Bobby's heart warmed at the sight, and his own grin grew as Hansel finally managed to answer Jack. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, sugar, than having you wrapped around me on horseback or otherwise."

A thrill shot up Jack's back all the way to his heart at the grin that was on Hansel's face and the light that shone forth from his eyes. This was a man who should have been loved gently a long time ago! He couldn't wait to get his hands on Derek for ever taking that light away from Hansel's eyes! He thought Hansel was the most handsome man he had ever seen, and he wanted to wrap his arms around him and kiss him but didn't dare to do it in front of the others. Hansel's words thrilled him and also made him horny as Hell. He recovered himself quickly, however, and moved forward to where the others could not see his steed's reaction.

Bishop again rolled his eyes at the words he heard the men exchanging. He didn't care that they were fawning over each other. It was the love talk he found annoying and would have even if one of them had been a skirt. He swiftly finished saddling the horses, then turned to look at the waiting men again. "They're ready. Turn yourselves out. I'm going back to bed." His yawn was almost as big as he was; he stomped back to his sleeping mat.

Jack waited for Hansel to mount, which he did smoothly after giving Dawson a rain slicker and shoving the last one into a saddlebag. Jack then placed his hands on the rump of his horse and jumped up to sit behind him. He wrapped his arms around him. "Ready, love. I can't wait to see what this wild sister of yours is like! I hope she likes me and doesn't come gunning for me."

Hansel thrilled at the feel of Jack's arms around him, and he found himself wishing that he would stay in his arms forever. He curled into his embrace; if he had been a cat, he would have purred his happiness. He recalled Jack's purr from when they had made love and felt instant heat wash through him. He waited for Bobby and Dawson to be ready.

"As long as you're good to him," Bobby called to Jack from astride his own dapple gray mare, "she won't eat you." He leaned down and offered his hand to Dawson, who had just finished fighting with his green slicker and gotten it into place, as he reflected on how terribly Derek had treated Hansel for so long and how tired he was of waiting for Faith to realize what was happening.

Derek was always so careful not to hurt Hansel around Faith, and although Faith knew that her brother and Derek had problems, Hansel had begged her to stay out of them and she hadn't looked close enough to see just how serious those problems were because of Hansel's pleas. Hansel had also sworn Bobby, Elvira, and Lorne to silence one night as they had worked together to patch him up, and not a single one of them had been able to deny his tears. They struggled with telling Faith every time she visited, but because they had each given their word to Hansel and were afraid of the toll Faith murdering Derek would take on their friend, they had remained silent for far too long. {It's gotta stop,} Bobby swore in that moment, and it would, one way or another.

Dawson was not sure what he had just seen, and he wasn't about to ask questions. It seemed that the two guys were together, and he wondered, for a minute, if Bobby was that way. He took the offered hand and let Bobby help him onto the horse. Then he grabbed a hold of Bobby and held on for dear life as the horse seemed to take flight. They raced through the night with only one thought on his mind: Would he get to Faith in time?

* * *

From across the street, three pairs of eyes watched as the riders left town. They did not pursue them. It would not be long before their master had arrived. Let the fishies swim for a while. When the master came, they'd all be caught in the net!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Horse and rider galloped through the stormy night, the howling winds whipping all around them. The storm was growing with magnitude and seemed to have no intentions of calming. They moved as one, the woman laid low over the mighty horse's broad back and moving only to shift in tune with the dark beast whenever he changed direction.

She lost track of time easily, but the one thought that kept repeating through Faith's mind was that she had to reach Little Wild Cat in time. There was no doubt in her mind that the lost Indian child had to be him, and she wished his mother had sent word to her the moment he'd been discovered missing from camp. She knew his people would have known the storm was coming, so why hadn't they called for her?

As lightning cut through the sky and hit a tree just a few feet from where they ran, she knew why. The tribe tried to avoid the white people at all costs, and they had known that she was going to visit Hansel. Only if they had realized just how much danger Little Wild Cat was in would they have sent for her. She smirked. Even then they would have first tried their own finest warriors.

Thunder boomed through the dark sky, blending with the sounds of the pounding hoofbeats beneath her. It became a cry within her blood: She had to reach him in time! She had to reach him in time! She had to reach him in time!

Then, suddenly, the mountain loomed before them. {Hold on, kiddo,} she thought as her horse continued on the path she'd told him to take, running swiftly around the side of the mountain to the route that wound to the top. {We're coming.}

The night had become so black that she couldn't even see her horse's head in front of her eyes unless lightning flashed. Evidently her steed could see no better for suddenly he rose up onto his back and pawed the air. Her fingers grasped his mane tightly as Faith called to him to calm down. Slowly he returned all four hooves to the ground but still shifted restlessly beneath her.

Lightning filled the sky again, and she could finally see what had happened. A rockslide blocked their way. "We've gotta go around the side of the mountain," she told him. "I'll have to climb." He limped slightly as he stepped again, and Faith cursed as she realized that he'd stepped on a sharp rock.

She dropped in a single, fluid movement to stand beside him and ran her hand lovingly down the white blaze that broke up his otherwise solidly black face. He blinked at her and tried not to shake as thunder shook the earth. "It's going to be okay," she told him. "You didn't abandon me, and I'm damn sure not going to abandon you."

Faith led the way around the mountain, calling Little Wild Cat's name at the top of her lungs and keeping a steadying hand on the side of her stallion's neck. She tried not to worry about how badly he'd hurt himself and winced inwardly each time she felt him flinch. One trouble at a time, she reminded herself, was how ya took down a whole wagon train.

Her feet suddenly ran into something. She tried to kick it out of her way, and it moaned. She peered down just as lightning split the sky again and found the Malloy twins blocking her way. She didn't know which had moaned and was about to step around them when she remembered Carlos' plea. There had been tears in his brown eyes when he'd begged her to save Trina.

She hadn't made it in time to save the stubborn woman who should have known she couldn't save the kid, but that didn't matter. Still the image of the tears in the Mexican's eyes made Faith stoop just long enough to check for heartbeats. Both still breathed, though their pulses were faint. Faith stood again, fresh determination filling her face and giving her an even more fierce expression as lightning lit up the mountainside.

"Stay here," she told her steed, her words softened by the gentle kiss she placed on his nose. She had no choice. She had to climb, and she could barely see the nose in front of her own face.

{Time to get down to basics.} She remembered the climbing and stealth lessons she'd been given by the Indians and began to strip, freeing herself of everything that slowed the white man down. Her boots were the first to come off, and she dropped them to the ground beside her stallion. Then she shrugged out of her black duster and draped it over his back. She removed her gunbelt, dumped the bullets into her palm, shoved them into her pocket, and then hung the belt and all it carried carefully around her best friend's neck.

"Hansel," she told him only, knowing he'd understand her perfectly as he always did. She stooped and removed a bowie knife from one of her boots. Then, with a gentle pat on the side of his neck, she stepped over the fallen twins and blindly searched the side of the mountain until she found her first holds. As she began to climb, she gave an eagle cry before taking the knife in her teeth, and Little Wild Cat finally gave up his hoarse screams for he knew help was at last on the way . . .

* * *

Carlos clung tightly to his horse's mane, praying that it would not misstep in the pitch blackness that was only lit when the lightning cut jaggedly across the sky. He felt the others breathing down his neck and prayed that they would be in time. He heard a horse whicker up ahead and realized that they were almost upon them. Lightning cut across the sky, illuminating his worst fear: Trent and Trina laying motionless upon the ground and a horse standing over them, as though he was guarding their lives.

Stifling the scream that rose and threatened to bubble over hysterically, he climbed off of his horse and raced to his beloved's side. His trembling fingers found a pulse, and he thanked God for that. He gathered Trina close even as one hand reached out to check for the pulse of the other. He lay so still against his sister.

{Please let him be all right! Don't punish him for me!} he cried inwardly, knowing full well that some would find it wrong that he loved both of the Malloys as family but only one of them as his true love. He was now touching that one. He would never dare to allow him to know exactly how he felt and knew that he had to continue to pretend that she was the one.

Carlos pulled both the twins into his arms and held them close to him while time ticked by and the storm raged on. He knew Faith had to be somewhere above their heads for it was her horse who stood guard over the Malloys. He murmured words in Spanish, calling to them to awaken and praying that they would be all right, as he rocked them in the storm. He had no idea how long he had been there when he heard the other men riding up.

Jack dismounted and turned to wait for Hansel. He would not have his beloved honey bear fall into the muck and mire he could feel his boots squishing. He shivered from the unexpected cold.

Lighting filled the air again as Hansel swung down beside his Gypsy. Before Jack could touch him, however, he saw his sister's horse, standing still and alone like a giant, black silhouette against the side of the mountain. He rushed to him, for once not paying any attention to the grime that splattered his purple boots. "Where is she?" he asked, reaching the stallion's side and noting, in the light from another bolt of lightning, Faith's jacket, boots, and gunbelt.

He followed the horse's gaze up, but the lightning was gone again before he could find his sister. With his heart in his throat, he prayed that she would be all right. He said a prayer for Little Wild Cat, too, and for the Malloys, who he presumed were the people Carlos was holding, but his main concern was for his sister. Though he wanted the others to be saved as well, he would sacrifice them all for Faith's well being.

Bobby laid a gentle, reassuring hand upon Hansel's shoulder. "She'll be okay," he told him. "This is Faith. She can beat the heck out of a tornado."

The horse whinnied suddenly. Bobby looked at him but dared not touch him. "Not you, old boy," he assured, then turned his attention to Carlos. His gentle touch moved from Hansel to the Mexican as he knelt beside him. "How are they?"

"They're not responding, but their pulse is good. Their hearts beat. They must have fallen from up there." His eyes went up, up, UP in the dark. Even as they went upward, lightning struck again, revealing Dawson standing beside the huge, black horse and something falling from the sky. "What the -- ?!" Dawson exclaimed, but the rest of his words were muffled by thing landing on his head. He pulled it off, held it out, and realized, with great surprise, that it was a shirt! He held it out to Hansel for inspection just as something else fell on his head. The second thing turned out to be pants!

"We need to get them out of this rain," Jack told Carlos, "but there's nowhere safe to go except back to town and we're not leaving Faith." He had to hide a smile from his face as Dawson held out the pants in shock. {She must be naked,} was all he could think. What kind of a woman would climb the side of a mountain naked in a Hell of a storm like this one? he wondered. It made him eager to meet her all the more.

"Faith's okay," Hansel announced with a grin. "She's stripping!"

Dawson slowly shut his mouth with a grin. He already knew Faith was one Hell of a woman, and he wondered at her audacity at being naked against the storm's elements. Only she would dare to face them in all her glory!

Bobby hovered beside Carlos, one reassuring hand feeling limp against the Mexican's muscular shoulder. If only Hank were here, he would be able to save the Malloys on the spot! As it were, his beloved was gone, his light shot out of his life far too soon and leaving his world as dark as the night that wrapped around them, and the boy he had left in his stead, though Bobby could not have loved the lad more if he had been his own flesh and blood, was unable to help any one, including himself, on a night like tonight.

There was nothing more that they could do to help the Malloys tonight other than getting them out of this storm, but he would never expect Hansel to leave Faith or their new men to abandon them if Jack were not chased away by Derek and if the boy, Dawson, had any stones at all. "We could take them," he told Carlos, "and the others could come after Faith saves Little Wild Cat." His words were full of confidence he didn't feel.

For just a moment, Bobby considered his gift. It was possible that he could form a makeshift shelter for the Malloys, but that would require revealing himself to the others. He'd never dared to even tell Hank of his gift; revealing himself to the others was completely out of the question.

Jack knew Hansel would not leave and figured Dawson was just as adamant about staying. "If you'll get up on your horses, I can hand them up to you. You can take them back to town. Hansel won't leave Faith, and I will not leave Hansel. As soon as she rescues the child, we'll bring her back to town."

Carlos nodded and then realized that the man talking to him could not see his nod. "Do you think you can lift them?"

"Do you think you can hold them?" Jack returned. He realized he looked small, but he was very strong despite his build. He flashed a toothy grin at Carlos even though Carlos could not see him.

Carlos climbed into the saddle, debating on whether or not he should hold Trina, as would seem fit for outward appearances, but could not stand the thought of Bobby holding on to Trent. "Give me Trent please," he asked Jack, "and, Bobby, if you would please carry Trina?"

"Of course," Bobby assured Carlos. Without a word to Jack as to debate the issue for he felt the Gypsy would probably insist he could handle the full weight himself, Bobby moved to where he had seen Trent laying in the last flash of lightning, slipped his hands around his left side, and waited for Jack to move to the other side.

Jack slipped his hands under Trent's still body on the right side. "On the count of three," he said, "we lift him upward and, Carlos, you pull. One . . . Two . . . Three . . . " Together Jack and Bobby lifted Trent. Carlos reached down and pulled his beloved up into his arms. Once he had Trent settled securely, Carlos turned his horse and headed for town, trusting Bobby to follow with Trina.

Bobby walked over to his mare and stroked her neck reassuringly. She was spooked by the storm but waited loyally for him nonetheless. Lifting one of the flaps of his saddlebags, Bobby pulled out a long-necked bottle and tossed it to Jack in a flash of lightning. "Give that to Faith as soon as she gets back down here," he told him, closing the bag. He then mounted and led his old girl to take a few steps closer to the fallen woman.

Jack had deftly caught the bottle. Now he turned it around to where he could see the label in the next lightning flash: tequila. He chuckled even as he stuck it down the back of his pants to hold it safe. He struggled to pick Trina up. It turned out that she was a little heavier than he had expected. He wondered at first if it was because of her duster, and then the gun fell to the ground. It appeared to be a small cannon. The impact against the ground caused the gun to fire, and the bullet ricocheted off the side of the mountain.

The sudden loudness caused the already frightened horses to whinny and rear. Jack looked at Bobby, hoping he was going to be able to bring his horse back down before the hooves struck him and the unconscious girl.

Dawson narrowly missed getting caved in the head by the flying hooves of Faith's horse, and Jack had to roll out of the way as Hansel's horse also reared. He could hear a horse thundering madly away in the direction of town. A lightning flash revealed no rider. "Bobby?" Jack called out even as his hand began to reach in the place where the horse had last stood, carrying the young man, before taking off. He prayed that he was all right.

Bobby groaned as he forced himself to pick up his head. Bessie had always been easy to spook, but he'd had no choice but to bring her out tonight. With all that had been happening to Hansel lately, he hadn't been about to let his friend go off without him on such a dark and stormy night. "Damn," he moaned. "Jack, if you had to shoot, couldn't you have waited until we got the heck out of the way?" Teasing laced his voice, however, as he struggled to pull himself together.

"Wasn't me, my friend. That darn cannon that woman's toting liked to have took my foot off too! Now what do we do?"

As soon as another lightning flash revealed that his naked sister was continuing her way up the mountain, Hansel raced to Bobby. As Bobby tried to stand, Hansel caught his arm and helped him to stand the rest of the way. "Bobby," he asked, having seen, through another brilliant flash of lightning, that Jack appeared unscathed, "are you all right?"

"Y-yeah," Bobby answered. "Bit dazed but . . . I'm all right. I've got to go get her."

"Bobby, Bessie ain't gonna stop running until she's home. She'll be there when we get there."

"I've gotta get Trina back." Lightning flashed again, but Bobby could see little more than he could before. He touched his forehead gingerly in the darkness afterward, and his fingers were sticky when he brought them away again. He wiped the blood off on his jeans.

"Stay there when you get there," Jack told him. "Get somebody to look at that gash on your head. Is there a town doctor?"

"Yeah, but he . . . He's very superstitious," Bobby offered in way of explanation. "He sees no one on full moons."

"So there's no one else?"

"No one worth a damn."

"We could use the Shaman," Hansel put in.

"You know how they feel about townspeople," Bobby reminded him.

"Yeah, but you're different."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're my friend. He'll help."

Jack had followed the conversation and wondered what Hansel had to do with the Indians. He had already been wondering why Faith was willing to risk life and limb to rescue one of theirs. "Do you know how to get there?" Jack asked him. "Take Hansel's horse. You can always send some one after us, or if we have to, we can walk it."

Hansel shook his head. "He won't make it in there that way. He's gotta have something that will tell them he comes from us. He goes in there riding Tonto, they'll just think he stole 'im. He'll never make it pass the first boundary." He turned slowly, with a thoughtful expression, to face Faith's stallion.

Bobby fell back away from Hansel, a horrified expression on his face. "No way!" he exclaimed, his eyes seeming suddenly so big that they appeared to be ready to pop out of his head.

Dawson had been quietly observing everything that had been going on around him. He didn't know what to do to help. He held on to Faith's clothes and waited for an opportunity. He didn't realize until every one was looking in his direction, how close he was standing to the big, black Devil. He gulped and slowly backed up from the horse.

The black stallion looked at the blonde kid with even darker eyes. The boy smelled of his mistress. His long tail swished as his eyes zeroed in on the boy, and he gnashed his teeth meaningfully together. He grinned wickedly, lightning dancing in his dark orbs.

Dawson almost ran to get behind Jack. If that horse was hungry and was going to eat somebody, it was going to be that damn Gypsy and not him! The horse's following whinny sounded like laughter that burned Dawson's ears.

Jack's eyes got big, looking at the Devil of a horse. "Nice horse?" he offered. "Don't bite me." The horse's dark eyes looked into his dark eyes, and he could swear that the horse winked! Jack stifled a laugh.

Hansel watched his new lover face down his sister's horse and had to smile when Tornado winked at him, a clear sign of his rarely-given approval. He wrapped an arm around Jack's shoulders and stepped close to his side. "He's mine," he told him with a grin. The black stallion returned his grin, then bobbed his head up and down, his mane shaking with the movement.

Bobby laughed shakily at the horse, and for affirmation, Jack squeezed Hansel in a hug.

* * *

Carlos had not gone very far when he heard gunfire and then the sound of galloping hooves about to overtake him. The galloping hooves passed him, and in a flash of lightning, he saw the racing horse was riderless! Somewhere back along the dark trail, the blasted horse had thrown Bobby and Trina! He turned his horse around and headed back, praying the whole while that they had not been killed.

* * *

Bobby watched the interaction between the Gypsy and Faith's horse and wished the woman's steed would go so easy on him. He stepped forward nervously and wiped more blood away from his eyes.

Tornado immediately swung his head in Bobby's direction. His ears laid back, and his lips pulled away to reveal his teeth.

"Nice horse?" Bobby tried as it seemed to have worked for Jack.

A low sound came from the horse's throat. Bobby had never thought horses could growl, but he stepped cautiously back nonetheless.

"Tornado," Hansel spoke soothingly as he laid a gentle hand on the big horse's neck, "we need a favor."

In answer, Tornado turned his teeth on Hansel. His mistress' brother was never to be harmed and she'd left him with strict orders to do as he asked, but he didn't like the direction this conversation was taking one bit.

Hansel stepped closer, his eyes locked with Tornado's, as old lessons came back to him. His voice dropped softer with each word he spoke. "I know you're worried about Faith. We all are. You remember Bobby. He works with me at the inn."

Tornado whinnied, long and low, in a sound of clear disapproval.

"Yes," Hansel said with a sigh and hung his head slightly, "Derek is a mule's ass." He stepped closer again and wrapped both arms gently around the huge horse's neck. "But we're not here to talk about Derek. We're here to help Faith, right?" Then, suddenly, his voice changed, and he whickered.

Dawson took it all in, wondering if he would write about it later. In a flash of lightning, he had seen the gunbelt hooked around the horse's neck. He knew it was Faith's. "You might want to take the gunbelt off," he told Hansel just in case he didn't see it.

Jack didn't move one bit closer to Tornado. He was expecting the horse to live up to its name and explode at any moment. Only Hansel had any faith in the horse. He made sure that he was out of the way in case the horse decided to explode.

Bobby's eyes had shot round when Hansel whickered, and now they grew ever larger as the blonde started to . . . communicate with the horse, was all Bobby could think to call it, for as he whickered and whinnied, Tornado occasionally put in a whinny of his own.

Hansel's hands worked soothingly over Tornado's neck as he talked to him in the equine language he'd been taught as a young boy by an old Indian. He could feel the others' eyes on him and heard Dawson's comment though he chose to overlook it. The gunbelt would be proof that Faith had sent her horse. He'd never whispered to a horse in sight of any white person other than Faith. He wondered what they were thinking but kept his full attention on Tornado. Were they believing what they were seeing, or did they think he'd completely lost what brains he had left?

Jack wondered what surprise Hansel was going to pull next. Not only was he a great lover, but he could also talk to animals! Now maybe, at last, some one could talk to Willow and tell Jack what Willow was thinking and saying? He'd ask him about it when they got back to the hotel. He realized his mouth was open, and he closed it.

Dawson shook his head in disbelief. He had read accounts of others who could talk to animals, but he'd never thought he would actually see it face to face. Yet here was Hansel, who'd seemed like a rational guy, doing just that and talking to a half-crazed horse! Dawson knew the horse was answering him, so if that made Hansel crazy, Dawson was crazy too. He wasn't about to go there. Maybe he was crazy and this whole, insane adventure was punishment for having laid in the arms of an Angel? His body was already sore, and he knew he would be worse off tomorrow from all the unusual things he had put it through.

Weakness fluttered through Bobby, and his knees almost buckled. He valiantly fought off the effect of shock and managed to stay standing, watching Hansel in immense surprise and complete awe. He wished Hank could see the man and horse communicating as if there were no differences standing between them! His love had always believed such was possible but had never gotten to see it.

Bobby was glad for the darkness of the night as a silent tear rolled down his face. Maybe Hank could see this. Maybe he was looking down upon them even now. Tears swam in his brown eyes, but he held them in. He couldn't afford to cry here, not in front of two men who were still practically strangers or the horse who had to accept him if they were to have any chance of saving Trina tonight.

At last, Tornado nodded, and Hansel patted the horse as he pulled away from him. He looked at Bobby as he lifted Faith's duster off of Tornado's bare back. "He's agreed, but there are three conditions."

Bobby gave the horse a strange, contemplative glance as lightning lit the sky again. Hansel saw his tears, and his heart ached for his friend. He hoped the others did not notice or, if they did, they would think no less of the man for them. Of the three of them, only he knew what a great loss Bobby had suffered. At last, Bobby shrugged as he replied, "Whatever the horse wants."

"Actually there are four conditions," Hansel said as Tornado whickered. He patted him again. "But I'll take care of the snacks tomorrow. What you have to do is you have to ride bareback and let him lead the way, never attempting to command him. When he's dropped Trina and you off, he's coming back here if we're still here. He has to get back to Faith."

Bobby nodded. "I understand and agree." He moved cautiously forward and wondered if he should hold out his hand to the animal and let the horse sniff him. Knowing that was usually the best move to make with dogs, he did so.

Tornado took one sniff, then blew the air out of his nostrils. Hansel grinned. "Take a swim tomorrow," he told Bobby. "You smell like beer."

Jack burst out laughing. He couldn't help it! Bobby had to smell like beer; that was his job! He hoped that Hansel could teach him that gift. His grandmother had been able to talk to the animals, but it seemed to have missed him completely. "Now?" he asked.

Hansel held Faith's duster out to Jack. "Wrap her in this. It's wet but should still offer some protection."

Jack gently wrapped Trina in the coat and then picked the girl up. He waited for Bobby to mount.

Bobby eyed Tornado warily as he walked to the side of the horse. Hansel stepped back to the black stallion's side and placed a gentle, stilling hand on his neck, then nodded to Bobby. Bobby's heart thundered in his ears as he boldly took a handful of Tornado's ebony mane. The horse stood perfectly still, however, as Bobby mounted. The moment Hansel stepped away, Tornado shifted ever so slightly, and Bobby gulped as the world spun about him. Sitting astride this animal was far different from riding his little mare!

Jack thought the horse looked like a keg of dynamite about to explode despite knowing that the horse had given his word. He stepped slowly forward and lifted Trina so that Bobby could reach her.

It was at the moment that Trina left Jack's arms and was in Bobby's arms that Carlos arrived back. "Madre de Dios! Who's shot now?!" he moaned, desperately holding on to Trent.

Jack was quick to reassure him that the gun had gone off accidentally and no one had been hurt. "There's no need to go into town. There's no doctor available. Follow Bobby. He's going to get help."

Dawson wondered if this nightmarish adventure would ever end with them being safe as he watched the two ride away. He prayed that the Shaman would help despite the fact that they were all not Indian. He glanced back up into the dark, wishing that he could see Faith and know that she was safe, even as some more rocks tumbled down from the side of the mountain. He knew she was up there, but he couldn't see her and the not knowing scared him worse than he'd ever been scared in his entire life.

Hansel watched Tornado shoot off into the night with Bobby holding on to his mane with one hand and Trina with his other arm for dear life. He knew horses did not lie -- that was a human fault -- but couldn't help worrying if Bobby would survive the ride. Poor Carlos was doing his best to keep up, but Hansel hadn't thought to make Tornado promise he wouldn't outride the Mexican. After all, he'd thought Carlos would be half way back to town by now. Knowing he'd done all he could to help them, Hansel turned back around, his eyes immediately going up the mountain.

Hansel had barely felt Jack move beside him when thunder exploded again. It seemed to shake the entire countryside, and then the lightning struck! Hansel didn't even hear the scream that poured from his frightened mouth as it hit the side of the mountain and illuminated Faith for just a few seconds.

Faith cussed a violent streak as the lightning hit below her, tossing her against the mountain like a ragdoll. She managed to keep only one handhold, and her feet dangled in the open. Little Wild Cat screamed, and she hoped the tree was not going.

Dawson was so scared he almost fainted! There was Faith! She was hanging, almost falling! His heart was in his throat. He gasped, trembling, and realizing, for the first time, that he was in love and that if she fell to her death, he'd never get over missing her. He screamed her name, wishing he dared to go up to help her but knowing that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

Jack reached out and grabbed a hold of Hansel. He didn't doubt for one minute that Hansel would go up the side of the mountain if he thought he could be any help to his sister. Jack knew he would be nothing but a hindrance just as he himself would be.

He closed his eyes and prayed, wishing for about the millionth time that his grandmother was alive and there to help. She had been the heart and the backbone of their people. She had been gone for so long that it felt like a hole in his heart that would never go away. He had not been complete since he had found her dead, and now his one chance of becoming complete again was trembling like a leaf at his hand.

"You can't help her," he whispered, "but we can do what we can to be ready in case she does fall. We'll catch her, break her fall." He didn't stop to think that if she fell from that height on top of them, they'd all be an oily spot.

"I can't lose her!" The words were a strangled gasp of a cry that broke from Hansel's throat. Faith had kept him alive almost his entire life, and the thought of a life without her in it was unthinkable to him. Words swirled around him: Faith's own boasts as well as the brags of all the people who had come to know her and be tolerated, if not liked, by her. They had all thought she was unbeatable, but now as he watched his sister in the flashes of lightning that danced across the night sky, hanging on to the side of the mountain, for the first time, Hansel truly considered her mortality. "She can't die!" he cried as he watched her naked limbs flailing about in desperate attempts to purchase new ground.

In that moment, Hansel knew he had fucked up. He'd wasted the last few years of his life trying to make Derek happy when he should never have stopped being with Faith. He had abandoned his sister, and now he might never have a chance to make it up to her. {Damn you, Derek, and damn me too!} Then, with his very next breath, he prayed, {Please, Father Sky, don't take my sister!} Tears filled his blue eyes as he watched Faith helplessly and prayed for her safety and life.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Cole stared forlornly down into his cold coffee cup that was almost empty. It seemed like at least an hour since he had seen Clark racing up the stairs, carrying another young man, and Martha had left him alone in the kitchen. He wondered what was going on up there but didn't want to stick his nose into business that was not his own.

Jonathan had returned, stared at him, asked where his wife was, and when Cole had pointed upward, ran up the stairs himself. Should he go up the stairs? he asked himself, or would some one soon come down? Had they completely forgotten him? Maybe he should just leave?

But no. He had every intention of being on the stagecoach when it left tomorrow and, in order to do that, he had to have Clark in position at his store. He got up, walked from the kitchen to the stairs, and looked upward. He heard voices.

Jonathan Kent closed the door softly behind him and came back down the stairs. "The doctor is not available," he said, looking at Cole. "Do you know anything about doctoring?"

"Me? I'm a store keeper!" Cole replied. He knew why Doctor Richards was not available but was not about to enlighten Mister Kent. "He'll be up and about his routine in the morning, and I'll let him know that he's needed out here."

"He might not be. My son seems to think something ate him."

"What makes him think that?!" Cole asked.

"He first took the young man to the doctor's house, and when he didn't get an answer, he went in and began to look for the doctor. He was afraid he'd been hurt. When he couldn't find him, he was about to leave when he heard a howl coming from the basement. He went to investigate and wished he hadn't. There were two things in that basement: one seemed to be some kind of half-crazed hound and the other was a monkey of some kind! What the Hell a monkey's doing here I have no idea! I haven't heard of any circuses in a long time."

Cole gave him a puzzled look. He could have told Jonathan that the hound was nothing to be worried about except on full moons, but he didn't figure it was his business to tell on the doctor. But what could be described as a monkey?

"I need Clark to mind the store for me for a while. I'm going to head back home, because I want to get an early start on the morning's stagecoach. I've got to go to San Francisco on some business. Probably be gone about a week at the most."

Jonathan looked at Cole. He really didn't know what made him uneasy about the man, because he seemed likeable enough and paid a decent amount of money every time Clark kept the store. His money had come in handy more than once, but he still made Jonathan feel uneasy. The man was too clean for one thing, and he always smelled of an odor that Jonathan couldn't lay a finger on. He knew he had smelled it before, but he just couldn't place it.

"I'll give the keys to the doctor in the morning, if I find the doctor," Cole told Jonathan. "Tell the others good night for me. I'm heading back."

Jonathan nodded absent-mindedly as he took himself out the door as well, heading back for the barn. Cole mounted and headed back to town, wondering how a monkey had come to be with Doctor Richards. He'd have to check that out when he returned from his trip. He was willing to bet his last dollar it wasn't a true monkey but some other kind of Wereanimal. It paid to know where every one of those creatures were. You never knew when one might need one for an ally, and most were willing to help a Demon in a bind in order to keep their secrets safe.

* * *

The young girl stood on the sidewalk with her back pressed against the outside wall of the saloon. She knew she didn't have much longer before her mother and sister would come looking for her, but she cherished every second that passed while she was still able to stay away from them. The winds howled, whipping at the railings, and the thunder boomed, shaking her to her very core. Still she stood outside, willing to face the storm in all its savage glory rather than return to the life she wished fervently could somehow change but feared, deep inside, never would.

A man stumbled out onto the sidewalk. The wind sucked his hat off of his head, and when he turned to snatch it off of the walk, he saw her standing alone. He sneered up at her in an effort to smile becomingly, and Dawn cringed inside, knowing what was about to come. Before she could move, he was upon her, one arm blocking her pathway to the door while his hand rested somewhere above her head. He opened his mouth, and she shut her own quickly and fought the urge to hold her nose as stench assailed her. "What's a pretty, little thing like you doin' out here?"

"Trying to," she coughed, "get a breath of fresh air."

"Why don' we enjoy some fresssshhh air togeder?"

The retort that it was impossible to enjoy fresh air in his presence was on the very tip of Dawn's tongue when her sister's voice called, "Dawn?" Buffy stepped outside in search of her sister, saw the hulking cowboy, and immediately brightened. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at the stranger. "Oh, here you are, Dawnie. I didn't know you had a caller."

"I don't. The," she coughed again, "gentleman here was just leaving."

"Yeah. Then I sssaw you," he slurred, "an' thought I'd ssstay a little while longer." He hiccupped in her face, and Dawn tried to back further into the wall.

"What a nice thing to say," Buffy commented as she stepped closer to them, completely ignoring the odor that wafted from the man.

"Why don't you stay with her?" Dawn suggested.

"'Cause you prettier."

A hand flew to Buffy's bosom. "Surely you can not mean that, sir? My little sister may be pretty, but surely you can not truthfully mean that she's any lovelier than I myself?"

The man's red eyes darted between Dawn and Buffy. "Sisters, eh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows. "Some kind o' special deal?"

"For you," Buffy said, stepping so close to him that her dress brushed against the arm he held over Dawn's head, "I'm sure we can work something out."

Dawn's mind whirled as she sought a way to escape. She slithered against the wall, trying to step to the side, but the man brought up his other arm and blocked her. He leaned even closer to her trembling body, and Dawn thought she would faint from the horrendous odor that assailed her senses. He licked his lips as he made Buffy an offer.

Suddenly the sound of pounding hooves flying down the main street had all three turning to see where the noise came from. Dawn was the first to recognize the riderless horse. "That's Trina Malloy's horse!" she gasped. "Something dreadful must have happened! Some one has got to tell the Sheriff!" She darted around the ugly brute of a man and raced back into the saloon.

"Not so fast, Dawnie!" Buffy called after her as she trailed her sister. "You have a customer here, and whoever needs to tell the Sheriff should be some one who can appreciate his gratitude!"

Dawn rolled her brown eyes upward but kept running. "Sorry!" she called to a waiter who she came so close to running into that he almost dropped the mugs he carried. It was only Coco's well-trained reflects that managed to keep him from spilling the tray, but then Buffy rammed straight into him. She screeched as the beer covered her from head to toe.

Dawn didn't stop, but the waiter stood, looking down at Buffy and trying not to laugh. "Well," he said with a grin, "it's definitely an improvement!" He turned with a flaunt in his hips and swayed back around to return to the bar for some more fresh mugs.

As Buffy continued to screech her outrage, calling for Blanche to fire the inept waiter though every one in the saloon knew Blanche wouldn't for he was her only working man and had been with her for years, far longer than Buffy or her mother, who was too busy entertaining her own customers to show any concern for her daughter, Dawn finally reached the table that sat directly in front of the stage. Emma Frost had come to check on the establishment that she had helped Blanche to start with a considerable investment, and, as usual, had suddenly decided to treat the crowd to a song and dance number when the Sheriff came in. The Irish man always took the table directly in front of the stage when Frost was on it and sat glued the entire time, barely even diverting his attention from the beautiful blonde long enough to sip his whiskey.

Dawn proceeded to try to get his attention but suddenly found her tongue would not work. She had no idea Emma's intent gaze had moved from the Sheriff to herself and quickly found that she also had no clue why she had come to the Sheriff's table. Then the thought that she must have come to offer him something more to drink or eat came, so she asked him if she could get him something only to have him briskly shake his head. Then, as though in a daze, she walked off and into the crowd, her brown eyes holding an empty appearance as her mind had become a void.

* * *

Thunder rolled, booming through the old farmhouse and threatening to shake it down to its very embers. The huge man moved wearily through the house that he had lived in most of his life, his thoughts lost in the past. On nights like tonight, he and his lover would have rolled underneath the covers until they made their own thunder far outshine the storm, but as it was, he was alone and his son was in the basement, covered in chains and howling his misery.

His head drooped as he walked through his laboratory, glaring at the beakers and other instruments that covered the tables. He should give up the experiments. They had ruined his life and would never give it back, but he spent every day trying his best to find a cure for the monster he had created. Even if he could one day find the cure, what good would it do him? He could never return to society or the man he loved. As he walked out of the room, he swept one massive paw along a nearby table, sending beakers crashing onto the floor.

Glass crunched underneath his furry feet as he continued his pacing. The shards cut him, but he did not pause even as he left a bloody trail through the house. The storm seemed to howl within his own heart, and his son's calls from down below did nothing to ease the pain. He moved from his laboratory into his library where the walls were covered in shelves filled from one end to the other with every kind of book imaginable.

Most of his books were scientific manuals, journals, and the findings of other scientists, but it was the one bookcase filled with fiction that he stopped in front of. Every book on the dratted shelf had a hero in it, a hero who saved the day and not only earned but kept the love of the one they longed for. At one time in his life, he'd believed that every story was capable of happening, and maybe it was for others. There were no happy endings for him. His son howled again, and he threw back his own head in answer.

Their howls filled the house that ached from the emptiness in their lives. He had no idea how long they spent just howling their painful miseries. It could have been scant minutes, or it could have been hours. He did not know, and it did not matter for all he had left any more was his son and time, time that never seemed to end, time that would never give him his dreams that had transformed from saving the world through his once-beloved science to greedily only saving himself through recapturing the love of a man who would scream and run from him in horror if he ever set eyes upon him again.

With howls hurtling from deep within his fur-covered, muscular chest, the man threw himself at his books. He shook them from the bookcase, then made wild grabs in the air as they fell all around him. He snatched pages from all of them and tore many completely apart, shredding their covers in his strong hands. When not even one fictional novel remained intact, he moved at last from his library, a room he had once been so proud of, before he could turn his wrath on the other books that cowered on their shelves.

At last he turned into his bedroom and stopped by his dresser. He really should ask his son to replace it and would have if they'd had any money or if he had deserved anything better. A monster peered at him from the cracked shards of glass in his mirror. He could still remember the man he had once been. He had been intelligent and handsome, a catch for any one as his love had often told him, but now he was nothing more than a beast. He rammed his fist through the mirror but could not even cheer when it finally broke free from his dresser.

At least that reminder was gone, he thought, exhaustion beginning to ripple through his body. The tiredness came more from his weary soul than it did anywhere else, and he wished only that he would never open his eyes again as he closed them. Another howl sounded from the basement, and he sighed. His son still needed him; he would probably always need him for the rest of the world would view him as a monster if they could see him on a night like tonight. He really had turned not just into a beast but into a selfish, old man as well.

But let him be selfish, he thought, for surely he deserved it now if he never had before. He had spent most of his life trying to find cures for every ailment known to mankind and had been repaid when one of his countless experiments had gone tragically wrong and transformed him into the monstrosity he was now and would forever remain. His good deeds for the world had cost him almost everything he'd held dear, but whereas he could have lived without most of it, he had also lost the man he'd loved more than anything else. It was his loss that made his new life unbearable, so didn't he deserve a little greediness now at last? Didn't he deserve to be able to call this miserable existence quits?

But as his son howled, he knew he'd never leave him. He couldn't for he was all he had left in this terrible world, and the boy could not make it on his own. It was all he could do to keep the practice running on his own. From his bed, the father answered his child with another long, chilling howl that somehow managed to transform itself into the name of the one he loved. His love's name hurtled through the house, and he howled again with the pain of losing him.

* * *

Brown eyes flew open in the darkness, and the portly, old man trembled as the storm raged outside. It had been raining when he and his lover had retired for the evening, but now the storm was full blast. It was not the storm that had frightened him into awakening, however, nor even the nightmares that haunted him. He had heard something that sounded like a great big crash of a ship running ashore.

He looked to his love and found him still sleeping. He smiled at the sight. His Captain always looked so peaceful when he slept. His mustache tremored, curling upwards and almost getting sucked into his nose, as he snored. Smee smiled at the sight and resisted the urge to reach over and kiss him. It was still too seldom that his beloved was rewarded with good dreams, and he could tell from the smile on his face that he was having pleasant dreams indeed.

Smee slipped from the bed; slid his feet into slippers James had bought him one holiday; picked up his glasses from their nightstand; slid them over his round, red nose; and padded over to the window. He pulled the curtains and glanced out, his eyes going first to the sky and then the trees. He breathed a sigh of relief when he did not see their enemy lurking in the shadows that were lit only by flashes of lightning, then turned his gaze further outward. In the far distance, he saw a faint glow.

Smee frowned as he wondered what was glowing and hoped it wasn't a fire. His fear had left him, however, for the dreaded boi was nowhere in sight. They were safe, he reminded himself for the thousandth time, letting the curtain drop back into place. The boi was long gone to torture some other innocent folk, and Neverland was far behind them. He returned to the bed he shared with his love and smiled as he gazed down into his handsome face, thinking that they were safe at last.

Thunder shook the room. Smee hopped swiftly back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Lightning flashed again, and for just a scant moment, Smee thought he saw a shadow on the other side of the curtain. Then it moved, and he heard a creak and a gentle scratch at the window. He sighed, realizing that it was only the old oak tree outside their window. Leaning over, he returned his glasses to the nightstand before cuddling up next to his beloved Captain to return to sleep.

The very moment Smee had left the bed, James' dark eyes had flashed open. He had not moved but watched to see what had disturbed his love. He, too, saw the shadow of the old tree. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling of love that surrounded him, knowing that despite the fact that they had escaped their enemy, Smee was still watching so protectively and lovingly over him.

He did not make any sign that he was awake until Smee had crawled back into the bed. Smee slipped his arms around him. James' heart was filled with love, and he tenderly kissed the back of Smee's neck. He thanked the Gods every day for giving him Smee and peace, something that he had never known before Smee.

Smee was his everything. He scarcely could remember a time when he had not had Smee in some form or another, and it had only been in recent years that he had become his one true love, even though that love had been hiding the whole time. He remembered a time before their exile when he was a young man and Smee had been hired by his father to come to tutor him. Being the son of a rich man, James had to know everything up to date, and Smee had been the best tutor available, even at one time being the tutor at the palace of the Queen.

They had been in England for that was where James was born. His family was long gone, but they had given them up for dead when they had simply ceased to exist on this side. James expected for them to disappear again, and if they were found, he figured they'd be returned to the Hell that was known as Neverland.

He held on even tighter to Smee, his eyes drifting slowly closed as he returned to his land of beautiful dreams where he and Smee, separated for a small time, were running through a flower-filled meadow full steam at each other. James caught Smee, and Smee seemed to float upward in the air. He was momentarily confused when Smee no longer appeared to be the Smee he knew now but the one he had first seen that long ago day in England. He trembled inside, and his lips pressed downward upon his love's. He never realized that love was what made him see Smee as that young man and not the way he was now, the way he was because of James' stupidity and their curse. He continued to dream on, holding his love tightly.

James had surprised Smee when he had kissed him, and Smee had snuggled closer, telling him that he loved him. The three little words that spilled readily from his lips were words that he never took for granted or tired of saying now that he could say them freely without fear of how the rest of his love's crew would react. His body wore the marks that some of the other Pirates had put upon him when they'd first realized that he was their Captain's beloved, marks that each one of them, in turn, had paid for with their very lives at the end of James' pistol.

Now at last they were free, free to live their lives as they wished and show their love openly without too much fear of persecution for they were the only ones who mattered to each other. They were free, and they were safe! The thoughts continued to resound through Smee's mind as he ever so slowly let sleep recapture him. His last thought, however, was the remembering of the glow he'd seen and the wondering of what it would bring for them. Somehow he knew their lives were about to change again, and as he clung to his beloved Captain and trembled slightly despite himself, Smee hoped that their future together would remain as bright as the glow he had witnessed and knew that, as long as the wretched boi did not find them again, they would be safe and together and that being together with his love was all that really mattered.

* * *

Dawn walked aimlessly through the crowd, the events of the last few minutes completely forgotten. She passed by a table where a group of men were getting up to leave and heard Rose Nylund telling another one of her stories. The Gilmores hurried up to the men before they could leave, mother and daughter doing their best to persuade them to stay. Dawn shook her head, remembering when Rory had fought as hard as she still did to keep from caving to the pressure her mother put on her to become the type of woman she wanted her to be. Dawn had once thought that her friend would never succumb, just as she herself was determined not to, but when Rory had, sadly, had proven her wrong.

Dawn passed by them, heard Buffy still shrieking as she stomped up the stairs, and then heard a new voice calling her name. She looked at the gambler's table to find the mysterious Cajun man grinning at her. "Care for a game o' chance, cherie?" LeBeau asked as he shuffled his cards. He sat with three blondes surrounding him, but the look his red eyes fixed her with sent a shiver crawling down her spine.

"Leave the child alone."

Dawn's mouth fell open as she looked at the black cat. Had he just spoken?

One of the adult women laughed and patted the other woman's hand. "Oh, Hilda's such a kidder, throwing her voice to make it look like the cat's talking!" Even as she patted Hilda's hand, the other woman shot the cat a piercing look that Dawn could not see.

"As if cats could talk!" the young girl, who looked to be about Dawn's age, exclaimed, laughing. Her laughter seemed a bit nervous, and Dawn wondered why. Did she not like the gambler? Did she, like herself, wish to run, screaming, from this horrid atmosphere where another guy lurked around every corner?

"Dawn!"

Dawn looked in the new direction her name was being called from and ducked behind a tall, gray-haired woman who was passing by. The madame herself stood with a smelly cowboy, who she vaguely remembered showing interest in her outside. Why had she come inside again? She frowned as she tried to remember, but there was only a blank where the explanation should have been. She recalled the cowboy breathing his wretched breath down on top of her with his arm blocking her pathway to the saloon, and the next thing she could remember was waiting on the Sheriff. Somebody must be slipping something into her sarsaparillas again!

"Dawnie, I know you'd rather play wit' me, chere, den look at dat cowpoke."

Dawn's gaze swept back to the gambler's table, and her mouth opened to scream for beyond the Cajun, sitting at the end of the table, was the same black cat with a panicked look in his green eyes and a sewed _button_ sealing his mouth! She could only manage a squeak as she fled into the kitchen.

* * *

Elvira sighed as she idly swirled her blood around with her spoon. Sometimes she really missed being able to eat food or drink something else. Blood was sweet, especially when it could be gotten from a virgin, but an undead girl with a needy sweet tooth for chocolate was a Vampiress without any hope of getting what she wanted! She glanced up as her head dancer sat down in front of her.

Most of their customers had dissipated, the storm chasing them back to their homes or into their rooms. Only a few remained, and Derek had been griping nonstop about having to fulfill their orders. He was furious that Hansel and Bobby both had ridden off without permission and had even attempted to tell Elvira and Lorne that they would have to wait tables. Whereas Elvira had turned him down cold, Lorne had tended the bar for a little while before tiring of Derek's demands, reminding him that he had never signed up to do anything other than sing and dance, and walking off, leaving Derek fuming at the bar.

"He said he was going to fire me," the green Demon commented as he lowered himself into his seat.

"Again?" Elvira replied with a single eyebrow quirked. "You'd think the creep would come up with something new."

Lorne nodded in agreement, but Elvira noted the line of worry between his red horns. She looked to the windows where they could see lightning flashing just outside. "I'm worried about them too."

"I know." He paused, took a delicate sip of his drink, and then mentioned casually, "We have a bit of a problem."

"It is _little_," Elvira agreed, cutting eyes at Derek as he hurried to fill another mug, "no matter how big he tries to pretend it is."

"It's little," Lorne agreed, "but it's painful for Hansel."

"I know." Her sharp, black fingernails arched over the tablecloth. "I would love to teach him some manners."

"But we promised Hansel we wouldn't intervene."

She sighed and inclined her head in an agreeing nod. "Or tell Faith. I wish she'd open her eyes. Everybody thinks she's so great, but she's ignoring the obvious."

"It's not obvious," Lorne said gently. "Think about how Derek acts when she's around."

"Think about the marks he leaves."

"That Hansel covers up. She wants him to be happy. She doesn't like Derek, but Hansel's asked her to let him handle him. She has no idea that he's hurting him so badly."

Elvira blew out a breath. "Yeah, and we promised not to tell her."

Lorne paused as Elvira took a swallow of blood. He watched the slight grimace pass over her face and wished he had some chocolate to offer her. She could not gleam any nourishment from it, but sometimes a girl just needed chocolate, especially on a stormy night filled with trouble and heartache.

He knew Hansel and Bobby were not the only ones on her mind. He wondered where Wolf was tonight and how she could overlook his natural, primal scent enough that she had no idea what he truly was. Perhaps he should tell her? But no, she might be one of those Vampires who detested Werewolves.

When Elvira sat her glass back down, he asked her cautiously, "Did you promise not to tell any one else?"

"No," she answered with a shake of her head. Her black eyes narrowed at him as she looked at him inquisitively. "What are you thinking?" Lorne began to tell her of his plan, and her black lips arched into a slow smile. Devilment gleamed in her ebony eyes as she turned her gaze to follow the man in question.

Derek caught Elvira's look and trembled in his boots. He knew there was something completely unnatural about her and her friend but had been thus far unable to talk any sense into Hansel. That fact coupled with the money they brought in had caused him to give up trying to get rid of them until they angered him, but he knew, as she watched him, that he was going to have to redouble his efforts. This time, he would chase the bitch and her dicks out of town!

Lorne put a gentle hand on Elvira's hand, and she turned her attention back to him, thinking to herself that Derek would pay at long last and that she couldn't wait to see every painful minute of it!

* * *

Memories flashed through Hansel's mind as he stared up at his sister, feeling more helpless than he ever had before in his adult life. His sister always seemed so brave and bold, unable to be bested by anything or any one. He remembered several of the fights she'd been in. She'd come out on top out of every one of them, no matter how greatly she'd been outnumbered, how much bigger her enemy had been, or how many more weapons they'd possessed.

But now he realized that she was nowhere near as invulnerable as she acted, and he recalled the very first time he'd set eyes on her. Smoke had been everywhere, making his eyes burn as they did now, and he'd been all alone. When it had finally cleared for a moment, he'd seen her, looking as scared as he'd felt though not acting it. She'd been holding to the hand of the woman who had become Mother to them both and had smiled when she'd seen him. She'd said something to their Mother, something he'd never known the exact details of and had been unable to hear in the moment for the whooping and hollering of the Indians who'd circled their wagon train. She'd offered him her hand, and he'd taken it hurriedly.

Faith had been a part of his life for almost as long as he could remember. No matter how dark their world had become, she had been there, her bravery shining like a light in the dark. He saw her again in his mind's eye, this time several years older but still just a girl. Blood had been splattered all over her face, blood of the enemies she'd downed herself, when she'd whirled around to look at him. A great, big brute of a man had been holding him by his arm, and Hansel had been kicking and struggling with everything he had to break away from him.

He remembered the words the man had shouted to his sister. "Put down your weapon and stop fighting or he dies!" He remembered the cold metal of the gun pressed against his wet head and the terrified look in Faith's dark eyes. She'd looked all around, seeing the people who had become their family dying, dropping down likes flies at the hands of the white man. Then her eyes had locked with his again, and a tear had rolled down her face as she'd put her weapon down. He hadn't seen her cry since that day, though he'd known, for a long time thereafter, that she had cried herself to sleep every night.

She had stopped fighting so that he could live. She'd blamed herself for far too long for the rest of their family being murdered. She had broken them free of the white people when they had tried to force them to join their civilization. And then he had left her to become part of that civilization with a man who he'd thought he'd loved only to be struck down again and again by the one who claimed to love him.

Derek didn't love him! He'd never loved him! Love was not meant to hurt. Jack had taught him how it was truly meant to be tonight, and his sweet Gypsy could not possibly love him . . . not yet, at least. Derek did not love him, and yet he had abandoned his sister and freely joined the world of their enemies because he thought he loved him.

Yet if he loved him, he could not have enjoyed the sweet loving his Gypsy had just given him, and his Gypsy, too, was white, as were Bobby and Elvira. Perhaps not all white people were their enemy, but he had abandoned Faith nonetheless. She had been on her own for far too long, and it was all his fault! "I'm sorry!" he cried out suddenly. "I'm so sorry!" But the thunder drowned his words out, and he knew she could not hear him.

He cried when Derek beat him but kept his tears a secret in embarrassment. A grown man, especially a warrior, was not supposed to cry, but he had not been a warrior in years. Hot tears began to splash down his face. "Please don't die!"

Little did Hansel know that his words resounded in the hearts of the two men who stood beside him, both terrified for the woman who dangled far above their heads.

Jack saw the tears pouring down Hansel's face, and he knew he was scared for his sister. He wished he could do something to help, but he felt helpless. The only thing he could think was to give his strength to Hansel. He slipped his arms around Hansel from behind and held him gently.

"She's going to make it. Believe!" he whispered into his new lover's ear. "She will make it!" She will make it! Jack felt in his heart as though some one had spoken in his ear. He continued to watch and pray.

Dawson clutched the pants and shirt tightly in his left hand as he bit the knuckles on his right hand. He had not expected to fall so hard for a woman whose danger was her second name, but his heart leapt in his throat. He almost choked as he watched, thankful that he was not the one up there, trying to bring the boy down, because he knew he'd never make it.

Knowing all the while that despite the fact that he loved her, Faith would probably never even give him a second chance after it was over with, he still could not believe he had been given the first gift. Tears began to fall down his face, too, and he was not even aware of them. He continued to watch; his frightened eyes would not look away. He was dimly aware of the strange Gypsy holding Faith's crying brother but thought of them only as two people in love, hoping for the safe delivery of the one he loved.

* * *

Faith did not scream though it rose in her throat. She would not give her enemy, which presently was the storm that ravaged the world all around her, that pleasure. She waited, with terror clogging her throat and cold patience stilling her arms and breathing though not her legs that continued to kick around in want of purchase. She waited until, in another flash of lightning, she saw a hole. She spit out her knife, grabbed it with her free hand, and dug the blade into the hole.

Tiredness rippled through her muscles, but she could not fail. She would not fail. Far down below her, she could feel her brother's eyes upon her. He was counting on her again, she knew, though she had no idea of all the ways he was doing so. Further more, the wailing child and his people, gentle people who were as down-trodden and overrun by the white man as were the first people who had rescued she and Hansel so many years ago had been, were also counting on her.

Memories flooded her mind, each, with the sole exception of Hansel, of a person she had known and loved, of an Indian who had taken her and her new-found brother into their lives, their homes, and their family and loved them as though they were their own, and who had been stolen from them far too soon. There was the Shaman who had taught Hansel how to talk to the animals. There were the warriors who had come to accept her into their party, despite her gender, and count upon her as not only one of their own but as one of their best. There was the old Chief, who had never spoken a harsh word to them when they had not done something that had frightened him for their well-being. There were the old women and the other children, and, most of all, there was the woman who had loved them more than Faith could ever remember being loved in her whole life.

She saw each of their faces again now, heard their whispering guidance, and then saw her Mother's face. With renewed strength in her limbs, she found her purchase and her balance once more and resumed climbing. This time she did not stop until she reached the fallen tree and reached out a hand to the young boy whose wild, adventurous streak reminded her much of her own, though she'd never admit it to the lad.

She did not have to speak and was glad for emotions still clogged her throat. The child took her hand, and Faith pulled him to her until he was able to climb onto her back. Then, ignoring the trembles that raced through her soul, she began the long climb back down.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

As Faith began to descend, Dawson dropped her clothes and jumped up and down, clapping his hands in delightful glee. She was going to make it! His beautiful, bright Angel girl was going to make it! He couldn't wait for her to reach the ground. He was going to kiss her! She might slap him down, but he was going to kiss her!

Jack held Hansel gently and squeezed him more tightly before releasing him. He knew Hansel would want to jump forward and catch Faith the minute her feet were on the ground. He kept whispering to himself, "Thank you!" He didn't know which Gods were listening, but he wanted Them to know he was thanking Them all! They were bringing Faith down safely, and he couldn't thank Them enough!

Hansel's shouted words, though never reaching Faith, echoed in Jack's ears. He wondered what his handsome honey bear could be so sorry for. What could he possibly have ever done that he would now be crying for forgiveness to his sister? He knew Faith didn't hear it. He'd have to pay more attention to the reaction of his Hansel and Faith together. Maybe something in time would reveal itself. Jack hoped it would hurry before he had to leave so he could help to ease the path between them.

Hansel felt a strange ache when his sweet Gypsy removed his arms. He wanted to step back into his grasp but, at the same time, wanted to be ready when Faith got into reach. He would take the child from her, sit him on the ground, and then help her down and hug the heck out of her. He was still breathing shallowly now, though his tears were beginning to subside. It did seem that his prayers were being answered, he was being given a second chance, and, best of all by far, Faith was going to live!

He looked, in surprise, at Dawson and fought to keep from laughing at his exuberance. He could just imagine how Faith would react if she could see him! He knew it was the boy's innocence that had drawn her to him at first. His sister did have a thing for deflowering virgins, after all, but he swore the reporter had to be the most innocent of all the ones she'd ever had. He wondered if she would take him again and knew the kid would be shattered, without a doubt, if she did not.

Then the thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, and he returned his gaze to Faith. His breathing grew more rapid with each step she took, and his heart hammered in his ears. She would make it, he told himself. There was only a little further to go now. She would make it . . . right?

* * *

Paige Halliwell stumbled back as Dawn flew into the kitchen. The girl's face was pale, and she shook slightly. Piper looked up from her baking as Paige called the girl's name in concern. "Dawn?"

Piper put down the knife she'd been using to frost the cake she'd managed to squeeze in time for making while filling the mundane orders of the night. "Dawnie, what's wrong?" She wrung her hands on her hand towel, then reached out to the girl and felt her trembling.

Paige looked at her big sister with wide eyes. "What's wrong with her?"

Instead of answering her sister, Piper guided the young girl to a chair and gently pushed her down. Kneeling beside her, she asked again, "Dawnie, what's wrong? What are they doing?"

"N-Nothing," Dawn stammered out. "It's just . . . " She shook her head. "It couldn't be!"

Piper frowned. "What couldn't be, Dawn?"

Paige took the chair next to Dawn's and leaned forward, her own face filled with concern. "What did you see?"

"I saw . . . " Again, her voice drifted off, and she shook her head. "It can't be!"

"Dawn, what was it?"

"Th-that cat," Dawn stammered and pointed a finger at the closed door. "Go look at it. I-It's sitting with L-Le-LeBeau, and it . . . " She shook her head once more. "It _can't_ be!"

Applause filled the saloon, and with the finalization of Emma's show, memories came flooding back to Dawn. She remembered Buffy offering her services to the nasty cowpoke and seeing Trina's horse galloping without his rider. She recalled going to tell Sheriff Cassidy about the horse and then forgetting what she was doing. Her frown deepened. "I think somebody's been slipping something into my sarsaparilla."

"Are you . . . having . . . _those_ feelings again, Dawn?" Paige asked as Piper straightened.

She frowned down at Dawn and left Paige to comfort the girl while she went to the door of the kitchen. She peered out. People were milling all about, getting ready to leave or go upstairs before the storm could worsen even more now that the show was over. She saw Emma tossing a white feather boa over her slender shoulders as she descended the steps and looked away when the blonde woman, who owned part of this horrible establishment that was the only home she had been able to find for her family thus far, took the Sheriff's offered hand and began flirting with him.

She saw LeBeau's table, noted the three new customers sitting with him, and saw the black cat. She shrugged at the sight of the cat. He seemed normal enough, though she was surprised Blanche was allowing him to be downstairs. Piper turned her gaze back to the crowd and finally saw the old woman she sought. She gestured frantically to her, then ducked back into the safety of the kitchen.

"Is she?" Piper mouthed to Paige the moment she returned to Dawn's side.

Paige shook her head, her red bob bouncing. "But something's messing with her mind." She patted Dawn's knee. "You stay here; I'll go tell the Sheriff about Trina."

Paige left as the old woman entered the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Sophia," Piper spoke, looking to her for help, "somebody's been slipping something into Dawn's sarsaparilla again."

Sophia shook her head. "I don't know what all the fuss is about," she said, even as she set about making a drink. "I _wish_ somebody would give me something like that!"

Dawn began looking around the kitchen as Piper watched Sophia make the old Italian remedy. The aroma that filled the kitchen was delicious and made her stomach growl, reminding her that she hadn't gotten to eat lunch today for her mother had put her back on a diet. She was already skinnier than Joyce or Buffy, but yet they persisted she lose more weight! Dawn frowned as she thought yet again that that was probably just so that they could eat her food.

Cakes, cookies, pastries, and muffins filled almost every available spot. There were only two areas that were not covered in them: the part of the table that Piper was using to make her delicious foods and the table that sat by itself toward the front of the kitchen, holding the foods that were prepared and waiting for customers. "Wow!" Dawn exclaimed, her eyes growing bigger with each new food she spotted. They all looked so delicious that her mouth watered at the mere thought of a single bite of any of them! "What's the occasion?"

Piper shrugged. "No occasion."

Sophia quirked a brow at her. She had known something was going on all night but hadn't asked what. If Piper had been any less of a lady, she would have thought she'd had a wonderful roll in the hay, but she knew better than to even consider that. "Is everything okay?" she asked, though she already knew things were far better than okay. Piper had been smiling all night long.

Piper's eyes darted back and forth between Sophia and Dawn, but she was saved from answering when Coco came in to get the last order of the night. He took one look at the cake she'd almost finished icing and exclaimed, "Mama Mia!" He put his hands on his hips and zeroed his gaze in on Piper. "Okay, girl, spill. Who's the lucky man?"

A giving smile chased over Piper's face, and Sophia pointed at her. "Aha! I knew it! You do have a gentleman!"

Dawn's eyes shone expectantly at Piper, and Piper caved. "All right," she said, grinning from ear to ear, "I do or, at least, I think I may have."

"Who is he?"

"Cole Turner," Piper said, blushing slightly.

"That tall, dark, and handsome store keeper?" Coco asked to which Piper nodded. "Okay, girl," he said, swaying over to the table and forgetting all about the order he'd come to retrieve, "tell us all about it, and don't leave out a single, juicy detail!"

Piper looked cautiously at Coco, Sophia, and little Dawn. "All right," she said at last, "but you have to promise not to tell a single soul, not even my sisters." Thinking of how even Paige was completely unable to keep a secret, she added, "_Especially_ not my sisters."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Coco spoke first, crossing a flaunting wrist over his chest.

"Of course," Dawn said, "but why?"

"Blanche would probably run my sisters and myself out if she had any idea."

"That whore's not running you anywhere," Sophia told her, setting the medicine down in front of Dawn. "I'll see to that myself, if I have to. Now give already!" She grinned up at Piper, clearly ready for a new story, and Piper began to rehash the events of that afternoon, glowing with pride and hope.

* * *

Paige moved cautiously through the dispersing crowd, her gaze already seeking out the Sheriff. It didn't take her long to notice him, but it wasn't because he stood out. It was the woman who was clinging shamelessly to his arm that made him so easily noticeable, because nearly every guy in the place was watching her.

The redhead swallowed nervously. She didn't like Emma, and she knew Emma didn't like her or her sisters. She tolerated Phoebe best because, as she put it, Phoebe did her job. She, like Blanche, thought that every woman in their establishment should open herself up for the right pay. Paige had thought about it seriously over the years.

She'd seen the benefits that Phoebe and the other loose women reaped from going with the men. It wasn't just the money they received when they went up to their rooms with them. They always had some one to listen to them, some one to help them when they were feeling down, some one who at least pretended to care even if they didn't, and some one who showered gifts upon them endlessly (at least to her eyes).

Paige didn't know how many times she'd thought about having a man, but so far, out of the knowledge that she would lose Piper's respect, she had stayed strong. Was that really the word for it? she pondered. Emma was a strong woman. Every man in the place wanted to have her, and every woman in the room wanted to be her. She put up with nothing she didn't want to and had the power and money to do anything she pleased. She obeyed no rules but the ones she herself set into place.

Paige sighed. What she wouldn't give to be able to live like that! She'd have a house each made for Piper and Dawn. Phoebe could stay here, because she, for whatever bizarre reason, liked the life. She'd heard her say countless times that there was nowhere else she'd rather be and nothing she preferred doing more than entertaining men. Paige would let Phoebe fend for herself and give Piper plenty of money to take care of herself and Dawn. Then she would go see the world.

There'd had some interesting visitors in the time her sisters and herself had stayed here at Blanche's saloon. People had come from places she'd never heard of before their arrival: exotic, beautiful places that were full of excitement, adventure, and everything a girl could ever want, such as San Francisco, China, Spain, and France. Paige sighed wistfully. Oh how she'd love to see even just one of them!

She bumped into something solid and fell back, blinking in surprise. The smallest cowboy she'd ever seen pushed his black hat back on his blonde head with a single finger and grinned up at her. "Hey, baby, going my way?"

"Not . . . Not at the moment, sir," she murmured, feeling heat wash over her cheeks. "I . . . I have to have a word with the Sheriff first."

"Some one bothering you, sweetheart?"

"N-No . . . "

Before Paige could say anything else, the stranger had grabbed her hand and ran. The room was a blur, and then Paige suddenly found herself standing before Madam Frost and Sheriff Cassidy. "'Scuse me, Sheriff," the little fellow who clutched her hand called, "but this lady's got somethin' to say to ya."

Emma Frost's ice blue eyes zeroed in on Paige Halliwell. "The Sheriff is a very busy man," she told the girl even though, from talking to him, she knew the Irish man had the rest of the night open, a vacancy she hoped to fill. "This had best be important."

Sean looked at the newcomers. He grinned down impishly at the little fellow, because he could remember the last time he had seen Carl at the fishing hole. A gigantic fish had taken his bait and had been trying to pull him into the river. It had seemed like the boy was about to become dinner for a fish when Sean had rescued him. He tipped his hat to Paige. "Ye wanted tae see me, Miss Halliwell? What brings ye out this evenin', Carl?"

"Beautiful women," Carl said with a huge smile as he gazed back up at Paige. The rest of the room could have the blonde on the stage; he had come for the redheads! "Go ahead, darlin'. The Sheriff an' I are good at listenin'."

Paige glanced in surprise first from the Sheriff, then to the little man he called Carl, and then back to the Sheriff. She had been surprised that the Sheriff actually remembered her name as she was a nobody, but what she couldn't figure out for the life of her was how she had managed to get this cowboy stuck on her! He must have intentions of buying her for the night, but she wasn't for sale. She'd handle that after she told the Sheriff about Trina Malloy's horse.

"Dawn's not feeling well," Paige started hesitantly, fully aware of Emma's and Carl's gazes boring into her. "She wanted to tell you herself but isn't able to right now, and you have to know that something's wrong. Dawn was outside just a little while ago and saw Trina Malloy's horse running down Main Street riderless."

"Damn! That can nae be good! Tha' horse would normally ne'er run off an' leave her behind!" He racked his brain for a moment, trying to remember what the boys had told him their activities for the evening were going to be. He remembered it was something about delivering and helping Cole Turner, that it was supposed to be a big secret and not to tell any one, but he'd never known Trent to keep his big mouth shut.

"Sorry, darlin'." He gazed down into Emma's eyes. "I'll have tae take a raincheck. I've got to go rescue me boyos."

He lifted Emma's hand and kissed it before telling Paige to lead him to Dawn. He'd try to get a little more information out of her if he could, hopefully the direction the horse had come from. He knew Emma was going to be pissed, but it couldn't be helped. There was no way he was going to leave what he considered to be his family out there in dire peril.

He gazed intently down at Carl for a moment and wondered what was up the little man's crawl. He usually didn't hang out at saloons. Sean figured somewhere Carl had a pot of gold he had stashed for safe keeping. He had often watched out for him in the past. He didn't think he'd get in the way, and he might be helpful, so he didn't say much to him.

Paige shivered and felt Carl's hand tighten his grip on hers as Emma glared into her eyes. The woman could have turned a fire to ice with that look! She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Emma was distracted by Sean kissing her hand.

Tingles raced through Emma as Sean's lips pressed against the flesh of her hand. She'd never known a true gentleman like him before, and for once, she wished he wasn't so much of a gentleman for there had never been another man to ever take a raincheck on her. "Perhaps," she murmured, "the next time I'm in town unless you finish playing savior a little early tonight." She tossed her white feather boa over her shoulders as she walked by him, knowing that its end brushed his cheek and hoping that he would wonder what her flesh would feel like in its place.

She stalked by Paige with a fierce glare that made the girl feel like a mouse about to be devoured by an angry lioness, but even her stalking pace was seductive. She felt men's eyes lingering on her behind and hoped that Sean's was among them as she approached a group of rowdy men. The only Halliwell who actually worked stood in their midst, flirting with the lot of them, when Emma called, "Any one need a refill, boys?", and crooked her finger to the nearest waiter. Their attentions immediately went to her, which made Phoebe huff and puff as she set about looking for a new target for the night.

Sean had watched, his tongue almost falling out of his mouth, as Emma had sashayed across the room. A woman as fine as her should never be in an establishment like this! he thought, but he didn't have the money to take her out of it. He was just a poor man with big dreams that he would like to put Emma in the starring role of. Drawing himself back to the reality of the situation, however, he asked, "Paige, take me tae Dawn please. Maybe she can fill me in on th' missin' details."

Paige nodded and led the way into the kitchen. As she passed LeBeau's gambling table, she paused only long enough to seek out the cat. She heard a faint, muffled sound, and her brows shot up when she saw the cat's mouth was closed with a button! She squeaked but did not dare to say anything as the blonde women and LeBeau looked at her. The Cajun's eyes glowed red, and she all but ran the few steps further that took them into the kitchen. Her heart was pounding so hard as they entered that she failed to notice the conversation fall suddenly silent and could barely hear herself think.

Carl's eyes had been on Paige the entire time. "You okay, beautiful?" She looked like she was ready to swoon; if she did, he would catch her. Paige nodded but did not speak a word.

Sean grinned down at Carl. It'd been a long time since he'd seen the little fellow interested in a female, and he knew Paige was going to have a hard time getting rid of him. He could cling worst than any leech! It seemed that the last time he had a girl he was interested in, she had had red hair too.

Sean looked at Dawn, who seemed almost as pale as a ghost. "Well, what can ye tell me about Trina's horse? Which direction did it come from, an' where is it now?"

Coco suddenly remembered the order he'd come to fetch, winked at Piper, and went about his way. "I'll help you with that," Sophia told him, grabbing another order and following after having one more word to Piper. "Make sure she drinks every drop of that."

"Yes, ma'am," Piper said quietly, not wanting to interrupt Dawn who was relating the story of when she had seen the horse.

"But, hum, any way, that really isn't important," the girl said, catching herself rambling about Buffy and the cowpoke. "The horse came from that way," she said, pointing, "and went that way." She shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't know where he went after that. I came in to tell you, and I . . . huh . . . " She wasn't about to admit she'd forgotten! "I got sick," she finished lamely.

Piper's eyes had gone to Paige's pale face in the mean time. She didn't know who the cowboy attached to her sister's hand was, but at least he didn't look like he was one of the sleazy ones and wasn't trying to push her to the bedroom yet. She pulled out a chair and gestured for Paige to sit.

She did so, but Carl still did not release her hand. Instead he stood proudly beside her, his eyes finally being drawn away from her beauty to admire the pastries and other sweets that were scattered throughout the room. He licked his lips, reached for one, and got his hand promptly smacked by Piper.

"Hey! I wanted one of those! They are sssssoooooooo wonderful! What do I have to do to get one?"

Sean had seen Dawn look better. He wasn't sure what was going on, but now that he had followed Paige into the kitchen, he could also tell that Paige looked somewhat sick. Something was going on under his very nose, and he could not spot it. "Would ye lasses like tae tell me what has made ye sick?" He looked pointedly at Paige. "An' is there anythin' I can di about it?"

He, too, wanted to reach out and grab one of Piper's delicious, aromatic cupcakes that seemed to glisten under the kitchen's lanterns. He listened intently to see what her answer to Carl was going to be, because he was going to get one too.

Piper's hand had been resting comfortingly on Paige's shoulder; she felt her sister stiffen when Sean asked about the source of their illness. Paige had been fine when she'd left a few minutes ago, but now she looked every bit as sick as Dawn. Piper frowned. She also clearly did not want to tell Sean what was happening.

"I, hum, I think somebody . . . " Dawn fell silent. Her mother and sister might have put something into her drink to make her frisky, but they would have never done so to Paige's. Her stomach gave a strange flop as she realized that she must not be imagining everything that had happened tonight. Paige must have seen the cat too! And Sheriff Cassidy would never believe them, she knew with her next thought. He'd think they were crazy!

Piper looked from one girl to the next, feeling almost as protective of Dawn as she did of Paige. "I don't think it was my cooking," she said suddenly, plucking two cupcakes. "Would you like to taste it and tell me?" Where was Rose with one of her St. Olaf stories when she needed her? Those things always worked to clear a room!

Sean slowly licked the icing from around the edge of the cupcake. "Nae, ma'am, it 'twas nae yer cookin'! This 'tis lovely!" He took a huge bite out of his cupcake and wished he could eat like this everyday. "Do ye sell these?" he asked hopefully. "I'd like tae buy a whole dozen. I could put them on me desk an' eat 'em when I get upset."

Carl was too busy chewing to make a mention of anything else. One hand continued to hold possessively to Paige; the other one was hastily feeding the cupcake in.

Piper glanced at her sister and made a silent shushing motion to Dawn by pursing her lips together. "Not at the moment, sir," she said, walking boldly up to Sean and picking up another cupcake. She took his arm and began to walk with him as he chewed. "However, I might make an exception for you. You're always so bravely watching out for the town and everybody. It's the least I could do." She smiled brightly up at him as she walked, hoping he didn't realize what was she doing.

His eyes followed the cupcake, and his feet were doing the walking even as his mind was telling him, {Watch out, Sean! She could be setting a trap!} He finished the last bite of his first cupcake and reached out eagerly with his hand, hoping to get the second one.

Piper hesitated in releasing the cupcake as they reached the kitchen door. Her arm remained linked with his as they stepped out of the kitchen, and she finally gave him the cupcake. "Perhaps I could make a special batch for you when I have a little more money for more ingredients. I'll stop by your office tomorrow, and you can tell me then what your favorite flavors are."

Her bright smile remained in place, never wavering, as she gently extracted her arm from his. "Do be careful out there as you ride to save Trina, Sheriff Cassidy. Los Almas would be lost without you." Before he could say anything, she ducked back into the kitchen and stayed with her back against the door, praying that he would continue walking and leave and never knowing that Emma had seen her walk out with him.

She waited on the other side of the door before breathing a sigh of relief. She couldn't believe she had just managed to get rid of the Sheriff. Phoebe was good for something, after all, for it was from her younger sister that Piper had picked up such techniques! Then her gaze lifted, her mouth fell open, and her heart dropped. "STOP!" she screamed, and Carl froze with frosting plastered over his mouth.

In the couple of minutes it had taken Piper to get Sheriff Cassidy out of the kitchen and on his way, Carl had lost his control and had been running across the kitchen, sampling foods left and right. There were slices missing from her pies, and even a huge hole in her cake! Tears threatened to come to Piper's eyes. She'd worked so hard getting things ready to impress Cole this evening, and now some stranger had ruined it all!

"I tried to tell him, Piper," Dawn exclaimed, "but he wouldn't listen!"

Paige stared at Carl with her mouth open. She hadn't even realized he'd left her side for he had moved so swiftly that she could have sworn his hand had just been in hers. Carl zipped back to her side, but Paige withdrew her hand and gave him an accusing look.

"GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!" Piper thundered just as the doors were thrown open behind her.

"WHAT IS THE MEANIN' O' THIS?!" Blanche Devereaux demanded. "The kitchen is one place that we do not entertain men, Miss Halliwell, but as you have chosen to entertain not only Carl but the Sheriff as well behind the scenes, Ah not only expect mah part o' yoah makings but to see you more often wit' men. We do not choose the man, Miss Halliwell; he chooses us."

"But I didn't!" Piper exclaimed, looking at Blanche in shock and hearing Dawn, Paige, and Carl all chime in to agree with her. Their voices seemed to come from afar, however, as a hollow ringing filled Piper's ears. This couldn't be happening! She had been so close to freedom, and Blanche had never made her do anything but cook and clean before!

"Then you call Madam Frost a liar?" Blanche asked, her hands upon her ample hips. "And you," she added, glowering at Carl, "get out of here!"

Carl snatched Paige's hand up and kissed it before rushing out. He turned backwards as he ran, once he was behind Blanche, and stuck out his tongue.

"N-No," Piper spoke hushedly, Dawn and Paige falling silent behind her. She knew that if she angered Emma Frost too greatly, she and her sisters would be out on the streets.

"As for this mess, you will clean it up at once! Ah do not know why you've made so many sweets tonight, but Ah do hope the ingredients came out of yoah own money!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, but next time Ah'll be chargin' you for the use o' the stove and kitchen as well if it's done on mah time." She snatched up a tray of strawberry tarts.

Piper sighed as Blanche left. Any time spent within Blanche's saloon was her time. She was still fighting tears as Paige and Dawn came up behind her and hugged her. Piper wondered where Cole was and if the storm had caused him to change his mind about coming tonight.

Paige wished for an answer to her prayers, and Dawn vowed that things would change the next day. She had had enough; she was going for help. She only hoped Faith would grant it.

Carl raced on into the night in search of Cole Turner. He knew he would want to know of these latest happenings as Cole had asked him to keep a watchful eye upon Miss Piper.

* * *

Sean continued to munch on his cupcake as he headed toward the stables. Just maybe, the horse had gone into the stables. Bishop might know something about it. Upon reaching the stables, he went in and narrowly missed getting his head knocked off by a shotgun blast. "BISHOP, JUST WHAT THE HELL ARE YE DIING NOW?!" Sean yelled at him, picking his hat up and sticking his finger through the hole.

"Practicing," Bishop drawled as he blew the smoke off of the barrels of his massive shotgun, "apparently. There were three ugly critters tryin' to get at the horses a few minutes ago." He peered out into the stormy night. "Reckon they're gone now."

"I did nae encounter anybody on th' way from Blanche's. Ye say three critters were after yer horses? What were they? Could ye tell?"

He shook his head. "Never seen a thing like 'em before in all my life, Sheriff. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear they came out of my nightmares."

"That ugly, aye?" Sean laughed. "Ye want tae tell me more about 'em?"

Bishop slid his gun into his holster and scratched the back of his head. He didn't relish the thought of telling the Sheriff about the critters, but there was no reason for him to care what the man thought of him. "I don't think they were human," he said bluntly, figuring that the Sheriff would put a quick end to the conversation on that note.

"Nae surprised on a night like this," Sean told him. "Can ye give me a description?"

Bishop regarded the Sheriff in a new light, his surprise clearly showing in his brown eyes. "They were dark," the big, black man said. "One o' 'em almost looked purple. Their noses were huge, took up most of their faces. They had warts and spoke real poor. And they stunk to high heavens, worse than crap."

"I haven't seen 'em yet," Sean said. "I have every intention o' lookin' fer 'em right after I find Trina an' the boys. Did Trina's horse come in here? Do ye knae anythin' about it?"

Sean wondered what kind of creatures were running loose in his town and if they would show up soon or would have to be hunted. If he did have to get a hunting party going after them, he was going to get Bishop to help him, because Bishop was one of the better shots in the town.

A pair of glowing eyes raced up the aisle toward them. Claws sunk into his boot and then raked up his leg as the furry animal climbed him.

Sean grinned. "Hello tae ye ta, Cat."

Bishop reached a hand up to stroke the orange cat once he had settled on his shoulder. "They're gone," he announced, "whatever the Hell they were."

"As for Trina, nope, I ain't seen her horse since they left outta here this afternoon. Trent mentioned something about going to Cole's. Whatever they were doing, it must've included a lot o' haulin', 'cause they took a wagon wit' 'em. They do it about once a month; Cole always pays me in advance for the use o' the wagon."

Sean nodded. "That sounds about right. They could be anywhere. I'm afraid Trina may be hurt. Somethin' might've hurt the lads as well. It could even be these creatures ye saw earlier. If they come back, shoot tae kill."

He wondered where to go next and decided to go to his office and look for any wanted posters that might look like the description Bishop had given him. Until something else came up or the horse reappeared, Sean had no clue as to where to turn next.

* * *

The forest passed him in a blur. Bobby had given up trying to see where he was going and merely stayed hunkered down against Trina who he held across Tornado's neck and hoped the horse knew where he was going. He felt the stallion pull up short suddenly and could only hear other horses moving about when Tornado ceased moving. The horse stood still as others rode around them, and Bobby braced himself, knowing it had to be the Indians and wishing Carlos would hurry up and catch up with them. He swallowed hard and slowly raised his gaze to meet the savages.

The man he saw instead did not strike him at all as a savage. He was dressed in buckskin clothing from head to foot and surveyed him intently through keen eyes. Lightning cut through the sky again, illuminating the stranger who looked like a long, cold drink of water. It was a drink of water that Bobby did not wish to partake in, however, for nothing could quench the thirst that his beloved Hank had left.

"Who are you?" the man asked, and Bobby was only then aware of the others who rode with them. They were indeed Indians, and each looked meaner than the one before him.

"B-Bobby Drake."

"Where'd you get Faith's horse?"

"She . . . " She hadn't given him permission. "Her brother, Hansel, told me to ride him. She's climbing the mountain to save Little Wild Cat." He related the directions they had taken on the trip.

Something changed in the man's eyes, but Bobby couldn't tell what as he wiped more blood out of his gaze and wished that Hank was there. One touch from his gentle hands would instantly rid him of the pain that seared through his forehead. The stranger spoke in an Indian dialect, and the natives listened to him. Two rode out from the rest and flanked Tornado.

"My name is Vin Tanner," the man said, looking back to Bobby. "If you are a friend of Faith's, we welcome you. Old Gopher and Sly Fox will escort you on to the village, but in the morning, friend, you really should go with me to Four Corners. We've a fine doctor there, and he'll fix you up right quick like. We'll head on after Faith."

Bobby laid his spinning head back against Trina's still form. Vin Tanner could keep his doctor; the only doctor he wanted was his Hank. His heart whimpered as Tornado moved onward at a slower pace.

* * *

Lightning continued to flash and light up the landscape as Carlos pressed onward to where he hoped the Indian village was. He had not seen Bobby since Tornado had took off at a run and could only hope that his newfound friend had also found the Indian village. A bolt of lightning revealed a grouping of people straight ahead. Carlos' heart jumped into his throat as fear made him want to hide, but he knew he had to keep going.

He was confronted by a tall man as he drew near to the group. "I come in the name of Faith!" He hoped the group would part and let him through or at least show him to the village where he prayed they would get help. Another stroke of lightning revealed the man he was talking to was a white man. What was he doing here amongst the Indians? He wanted to ask him but didn't dare.

Vin nodded. "Your friend's up ahead with two of our people who will go with you to the village. Hurry, and you can catch them." He then translated what was happening for some of the friends he rode with who could not understand English.

"Thank you," Carlos told him and began to follow the ones who were leading. Trent had not moved in a very long time, and Carlos was terrified he was losing him. He prayed silently all the way to the village.

Vin watched the lightning cut through the sky as he led his party onward. They had been out searching for Little Wild Cat when the storm had hit and still had not found the boy. Leave it to Faith to come up out of nowhere and save the kid, but even if the kid was all right -- and was he? What had happened that Faith had had to climb a mountain to save him? --, what of the others who rode with Bobby Drake and the Mexican? They laid so still. Were they dead? His instincts told him otherwise.

Vin wished his friends had come with him on his latest trip to visit the Indians, but he had yet to manage to talk this particular tribe into welcoming his friends, who, in truth, had become much more than just his friends as they had worked together to protect the town of Four Corners against seemingly endless threats over the last couple of years. He glanced up at the night sky and wished that Josiah would see some kind of sign therein, something that might tell the preacher man whose instincts were usually so well-guided that he needed their, and especially Nathan's, help. There was only so much the old Shaman could do to save these people.

* * *

Relief flooded through Faith as she felt some one lift the child from her bare back. She did not need to be able to see behind her to know that it was her brother. She glanced down nonetheless, scrambled down a little further, and then released her hold on the mountain. The ground had never felt so good to her feet before in all her life!

No sooner did Faith's feet touch the earth than she was covered by both Hansel and Dawson. Dawson clung to Faith as though he would never let her go again. He was breathing so hard that he was gasping for air. The fear was released from him, and he held her even tighter. Realizing that she still did not have any clothes on, he tried to draw his shirt around her, but Hansel was in the way.

Hansel buried his face in Faith's long, dark hair and just stood there, holding her and breathing for how long he neither knew nor cared. His sister lived! "I'm sorry, sis," he whispered into her ear, causing surprise to glisten in her dark eyes, "and I love you."

Faith laughed off the moment as only she could. She grinned at her guys. "You almost look like you were scared I wasn't gonna make it, blondie. You know nothing's bad enough to kill me." She flashed him a grin as thunder rumbled like a giant laughing and lightning lit the area. She met Hansel's eyes, and only there, in her still gaze, did her true emotions show. She had been scared, but she'd never admit it. "Where's my tequila?"

Hansel stepped slightly back, allowing Dawson room, and wondered. Bobby had had the tequila, but where was it now?

"And where the Hell's my horse?"

Jack grinned in the dark even though he knew no one could see him. Relief flooded his heart, and he was happy that she had made it back for he did not know how he would have consoled Hansel if he had lost such a rare jewel as his sister was turning out to be. "I have it," he said as he stepped forward, pulling the tequila from his pocket, "but I don't have your horse. He's gone to the village without you."

His hands brushed hers as he handed her the bottle. Was she really as small as she looked now? When she had been up that mountain, she had looked like a Giantess despite the storm. He felt that she could beat anything that she went up against.

Faith's hand closed around the bottle, but she hesitated, her fingers touching Jack's and her eyes glaring deeply into his. "You look good enough to eat," she admitted as her own way of saying her brother had good taste (as he always had before Derek), "but if you hurt my brother, I'll cook you over my fire and feed you to the coyotes." She then took the bottle from him, uncorked it, and downed the entire thing in a single gulp.

"If I hurt your brother, I'll cut my own throat," Jack made a promise even though he knew, sooner or later, he would end up having to hurt Hansel when he had to leave. He had to admire the girl's ability to drink. He reached out in the dark to touch Hansel and reassure him everything was going to be okay now.

He didn't know how much longer it would be okay, but he was willing to take a chance, at least until he saw his enemy. Once that happened, he'd never give him a chance to hurt Hansel. He knew he'd simply have to leave, and when he did, he'd be leaving his heart behind for he now found that he not only had Hansel in his heart but he had his sister. He had not intended to increase his family, but he wasn't about to push them away.

Dawson looked at Faith in confusion. Wasn't he good enough to eat? Why was she looking at Jack? He wanted to growl. Instead he continued to try to slide Faith's shirt onto her arms.

Faith tossed the bottle behind her and let go with a burp that wiped even more tension from her body. She grinned at Jack, but although she liked his response, he would still have to work hard to earn her trust, something that Derek had never managed. She wondered when Hansel had finally realized what an ass Derek was and felt like whooping in celebration that her brother had at last come to his senses.

Instead she looked at Dawson as she felt cloth slide over her left arm. She stuck her arm through the sleeve, then grabbed him by his shirt and snatched him to her. She didn't know why Hansel had sent Tornado on without her but would find out soon enough.

In the mean while, she felt like celebrating! "I hear a teepee with our name on it calling," she murmured before capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Her tongue plunged into his sweet mouth, and she knew she'd have him again before the night was through. She grinned against his heated mouth. She'd have him many times!

Hansel entwined his fingers with Jack's and smiled up at the sexy Gypsy who had ridden into his life the night before, bringing with him things Hansel would never have imagined. Despite the storm, his world was clearer and brighter than it had been in years. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed his lips tenderly. "Thank you," he whispered, and then, although he knew it was too soon, he told him secretively, "I think I could love you."

"I hope you do," Jack whispered in his ear before he could stop himself. He returned to kissing Hansel.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dawson saw it and broke off kissing Faith. "I thought you wanted to eat him," he said in a small voice, "but he wants to eat your brother!"

Faith grinned at Dawson's innocent reaction as her guarded eyes searched his. "You got a problem wit' it?" she whispered, hoping he wouldn't. If he did, she'd grab her an Indian when she got to the village.

"I just don't want you to want anybody but me." {Uh-oh!} he told himself. {You've done it now! She won't want you any more!}

She grinned at him, refusing silently to consider his words on a permanent basis. "Right now you're the only one I want to eat in a good way."

He licked her in response.

Jack was oblivious to anything but Hansel and the kissing that Hansel was putting on him was driving him up the wall. His body tingled, and the longing grew. How he could be so attached to one man in such a short while, he'd never know! He wouldn't question it. He wanted him now but knew he'd have to wait, and the waiting would probably kill him before he could persuade his lover to become his banquet once more! He held on tightly as emotions raked his body.

Faith burst out laughing. Honest laughter bubbled out of her chest like it hadn't done in years. Then, her eyes dancing, she grabbed Dawson with both hands and pulled him back to her. She kissed him long and deep and would have taken him right there on the desert ground if it hadn't been storming and her horse hadn't been so far away.

Little Wild Cat stood a short distance from the two celebrating couples, watching them with wide eyes. "{Crazy white people!}"

**To Be Continued . . . **


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Cole had had no intention of being out so late. He knew that the later he was out, the more chance he had of running into things he really didn't want to make contact with. The mishap at the Kent farm had caused him to be extremely late. He didn't know how late, but he figured Piper would probably have given up on him by now. Still he had to try.

He rode as quickly as he could back to town. Something collided with Tempest and almost unseated Cole as he had been lost deep in reverie, hoping that Piper had not given up on him and would not be angry once he explained the situation. Lightning flashed. Tempest reared and then struck downward at the ground at whatever had bumped into him.

Cole did not need the lightning to see that Carl was curled up into a ball, about to be crushed by Tempest's hooves. "Steady, boy." Cole patted his horse while talking soothingly, trying to calm him down. "Carl, what do you think you're doing," Cole asked, hoping that he had not passed out, "and what do you have all over your face?"

Carl rubbed quickly at his face while he remained curled in the ball. The weather was playing with his senses, or he would have never ran into Tempest and would have been clean long before reaching Cole. As it was, he had still been licking the evidence when he had nearly been ran over by the black beast.

He kept his head down low and his small, pudgy hands over the back of his blonde head as he opted to ignore the second question and only answer the first, "I was coming for you. Miss Piper's upset!" If he had any good luck at all tonight, although that would be unusual for him, Cole would forget about the frosting he still wore in his concern for Piper.

"Why is Miss Piper upset, Carl? What have you done? I can't help but to see you have frosting all over you!"

Tempest snorted, looking as though he would love to eat Carl. One thing he didn't like was ugly, little males jumping under his nose. He didn't exactly want to eat him, but if he could scare him . . . He grinned mischievously and snorted, blowing smoke out of his nostrils.

Carl blanched, squeaked, and rolled swiftly out from underneath Tempest's hooves. He considered his options carefully. He could face the angry Demons out here in the storm-filled night, or he could give Cole a piece of news and get the heck out of there. He wouldn't bother to chase him tonight; he'd go after Piper instead.

"She's in trouble with Madame Devereaux for having . . . " He grinned impishly, his nature getting the best of him for the second time that night. " . . . the Sheriff in the kitchen!" When he started rolling this time, he didn't stop.

"WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SHE HAD THE SHERIFF IN THE KITCHEN?!" Cole thundered, anger shooting from his eyes.

"I'D GO CHECK ON HER IF I WERE YOU!" were the last words Carl shot at him before he disappeared.

Cole lit out on Tempest's back as though all the Demons in Hell were hot on his heels. How dare that Sheriff lay one hand on his woman! He raced into the night, hardly being able to stand it until he got there, anger clouding his mind and causing him to throw caution to the wind and whatever other Demons lurked out there.

* * *

Sean opened the door to his office, puzzled as to why it was unlocked. He always made sure to lock it before he left. Joy flooded his soul at the prospect that his deputies had returned and that meant that his favorite nondeputy was safe!

But as he plunged into the dark room, fear and confusion gained control of him. His hand reached out and grasped his gun as the only thing in the room, something big and dark with huge, glowing eyes, loomed straight in front of him. Even as he hesitated, the being lunged toward him and swiped him with something rough and wet!

What was it, and was Sean to be its next meal? Fear filled his heart as he shakily pulled his gun only to have it knocked from his hand as another swipe was made on his face! He backed up against the door and reached for a match to light the lantern that hung by the door.

Great was his relief as he turned back in time to see the huge tongue before it swiped him yet again. He touched the place where Thunder had licked him and looked at his finger. Sean laughed, whipping out his handkerchief and wiping the remaining frosting off his face even as Thunder whickered rather importantly.

Now Sean could see the horse's big brown eyes that seemed as though he was trying hard not to cry. "Trina?" Sean asked. Thunder nodded and looked intently from Sean to the door. "Want me tae follow ye?" Thunder headed for the door. Grasping the knob with his teeth, he pulled it open and then looked back at Sean.

Without a backward look but picking his gun up and returning it to its holster, Sean followed Thunder out into the still storming night. Locking the door behind them, Sean had to admire the horse's intelligence. He had thought Trina's persistence in teaching Thunder tricks funny but now realized the importance of it. "Ye're a smart horse," he spoke admiringly to the huge gelding. "Let's go get Francis an' we'll gi rescue Trina. Boy is she gonna be mad at havin' tae be rescued!"

Thunder walked beside the man, wondering why he was so slow and hoping he would get faster. He walked faster, and Sean almost ran to keep up with him.

* * *

It did not take Cole long to reach town. As he jumped from Tempest's back, he let the reins run free. He burst into the door of the kitchen without even knocking. "WHERE IS HE? I'LL KILL HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS!" he roared.

Shrill, feminine screams rose up from around the kitchen, and a tray clattered as Piper, in her shock, released a pan of cookies to fall upon the floor. Dawn scooted behind Coco, who was already backing up. "Huh, Piper, dear, you want to deal with your man?" he suggested.

Paige's eyes darted between Coco, Piper, and Cole. "Your man?!" she squeaked, her eyes wide. This was new!

"Huh, C-Cole," Piper started slowly and gulped. She'd never seen him like this; it was as though fire danced in his very eyes! "Wh-Who are you looking for?" Gathering all her courage, she walked forward, placing herself between Cole and Coco, Paige, and Dawn.

"Uh . . . " Cole struggled to breathe and draw himself back into himself. He had not meant to let his anger get so far out of hand. How dare any one touch his Piper! He looked around at those gathered. "Sorry, folks, but I was looking for the Sheriff. I heard he was here tonight."

"He was," Piper spoke slowly, the others choosing to let her do all the talking and watching the show with cautiously-growing smiles, "earlier."

Coco grinned widely. He'd already put two and two together and was very happy for Piper, who he had always found to be a remarkably sweet lady. Cole was jealous!

"He . . . He didn't . . . huh . . . He didn't have his way with you?" Cole finally spat out. "I'll kill him if he laid one paw on you and you didn't want it!"

Paige and Dawn smiled. Paige giggled. Dawn bashfully hid her smile behind her hand. The girls came to stand beside Coco rather than hiding behind his manly form.

A smile tugged at Piper's mouth as she realized that Cole was not only concerned for her but also, she couldn't help thinking, just a little bit jealous of some one having taken her attentions, yet at the same time she felt her cheeks warm. "Word certainly spreads swiftly in this town," she remarked, but at Cole's look, she hurried to add, "but it's all a lie, Cole, I swear!"

She sighed, remembering how she had acted, and hung her head. "It's my fault really. I shouldn't have acted the way I did, but I had to get him out of here!"

"What was he doing in here, and why did you want him out of here so fast?"

Dawn cautiously raised her hand as she stepped closer. "That would be my fault," she said. "She was protecting me."

"And me," Paige added as she walked up. Dawn came closer to Piper and Cole as Paige walked over to them.

"I wish I could say me too," Coco said with a wriggle, "but I wasn't really involved." He grinned at Cole. "I could have been though."

Cole looked at him. "Haven't you got something else to do?" he suggested. He wasn't sure he liked this strange guy. He had an idea that he was no threat to the ladies, but he had business he wanted to talk about that he didn't want any one to hear but Piper. He turned to where Piper could hear his whisper, "I need to talk to you." He then mouthed, "In private."

Why had he not thought about it sooner? If he hadn't already gotten Clark lined up, he could have put her in charge for a week. It wasn't as though she could discover the room. Only he had the key to it.

He knew he was a tall person, but he had not realized just how much he dwarfed her. Yet, even as dainty and small as she was, he knew she held his heart in the palm of her hand. He had to talk to her. She probably wasn't going to like what she had to say, but he'd wait for that call.

He wasn't about to take a chance on losing her now. He knew he'd never be worthy of her. {For now,} he told himself, {you've got to be intent to help her, not overpower her,} so he took a step backward, hoping to intimidate her less.

Piper nodded a single, slight time to let Cole know that she had heard him, then faced her friends who, she realized, were really becoming more like family to her. Paige, of course, was already her sister, but every day brought her closer to Dawn and Coco. She wanted out of this place but realized now, for the first time, how much she would miss the two of them if she left.

She smiled reassuringly at the lot of them and gently tugged at Cole's sleeve as a hint that she would like him to turn around. "I do not believe that you have ever been formally introduced to my sister and our friends, Cole. This is my sister, Paige; Dawn Summers; and Coco."

Dawn smiled shyly at Cole when he turned to face them. She'd seen him at the general store a few times but had always been overran by her mother and sister trying to get his attention.

"Hmm-mmm," Coco remarked as he looked Cole up and down. "You've got good taste, girl, but, ladies," he continued, looking at Dawn and Paige, "we need to let these two have some alone time together." Paige giggled as Coco winked at Piper. "Don't worry about Blanche. We'll find some way to distract her from coming in here."

The man's exuberance brought a smile to Cole's lips. He could tell how Piper felt about them. It didn't matter if she said or she didn't. He could read between the lines. These people were her family. He was glad that she had them. He'd have to find a way to get them out of this mess too. They could help her in the restaurant.

But where was she going to live? {Damn!} he said to himself. {I haven't really thought about that. I've got to make a house for them.} "It's nice to meet all of you," he spoke aloud. "I'm glad Piper has you, and yes, we would appreciate some time alone. We've only just begun." He hoped he didn't sound too dorky.

Paige and Dawn giggled, and Coco gently turned them around and gave them a slight push toward the door. They walked out together, but Coco paused only long enough to tell Cole with a grin and a wink, "I'm glad she has you too, honey."

* * *

Sean and Thunder hit the stable door at a run and opened it just in time to miss being shot as a blast sailed over their heads and into the door. "BISHOP!" Sean yelled, hoping he would not shoot at them again.

Bishop slowly lowered his smoking gun and looked over its barrels at Sean. "Back already, Sheriff?" He had thought for certain that it would be the creatures returning for another attempt at the horses this time!

"What's happened tae ye, lad? Have ye gone daft, shootin' at th' first sign o' a door openin'?"

"Didn't figure anybody much would be prowling around this late at night if they didn't mean trouble, especially with that storm still raging." The booming of thunder outside seemed to add emphasis to his words.

"So th' creatures returned? I'll track 'em down when the rain quits. Right now I've got more pressin' matters. Thunder 'n I've got tae gi look fer Trina."

Bishop nodded, but then worry fell over his dark face as he thought again of the guys who had left out earlier. "I'm glad you came back by," he commented, scratching the back of his head. "I remembered something that might help. I haven't seen Trent or Trina, but I did see Carlos. First time I've ever seen him without either of the Malloys." He could have kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier, but he had been too distracted with trying to protect the horses from the critters who had been after them.

"That's highly unusual fer Carlos tae be by himself," Sean remarked. "He's never wit'out th' other two. Did he say somethin' or di somethin' while he was here?"

"He was Hansel, Bobby Drake, that greenhorn reporter who tumbled into town today, and somebody I didn't know. Think they called him Jack. They were going after Faith who had set out to save an Indian child from a mountain."

Sean scratched his head and thought for a moment. "Did they say which way they were goin' an' which mountain?"

Bishop shook his head. "Didn't hear 'em name the mountain, but they headed West when they left out." He had walked deeper into the stables while they had been talking and now started saddling Sean's horse.

Thoughts ran through Sean's mind. He wondered if his three missing friends might have gone to help Faith as well. At least that was the same general direction. He decided to head that way. Thanking Bishop for his horse, Sean sprang lightly into the saddle, and Thunder took off at a run. Sean was glad that the horse headed West for that, in his mind, confirmed that whatever had happened to Trina and Trent probably also had to do with the rescue Faith and the others had set out on.

Neither looked back. If they had, they would have seen a set of eyes staring holes into them, eyes that could see in the dark better than any cat born, eyes that belonged to a troublemaker like none Sean had ever encountered before. Sean galloped into the night, hoping his friends would be all right when he found them.

Bishop walked to the door that the wind swung back and forth and looked out just as the glow of the eyes vanished. The rain slashed into the big, dark man's face, and the wind whipped at the doors and the fur of the cat who sat on top of his head, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

Bishop surveyed the town with his gun already at the ready, then stepped back into the stables and bolted the doors closed. There'd be no more easy interruptions this night; if something else opened those doors, it would only be one thing: Trouble. Bishop would lay it open the moment the doors opened. He pulled up a stool and sat, facing the doors and waiting.

The cat mewed pitifully, his fur fluffed out from the sensations he had picked up in the night air. Bishop kept his gun hand wrapped around the handle of his gun while he used his other hand to reassuringly scratch the tabby's head. "It's all right, Cat. We'll wait 'em out. When they do show back up, I'll blow their damn heads clean off their shoulders." Cat meowed as, for the first time since being rescued by him, he doubted his friend.

* * *

Piper's blush had grown at Cole's words, and she looked at him bashfully when Coco, Dawn, and Paige were gone. "He, hum, he's unusual, but he's a good man."

"I am sorry I'm late coming back. I hope I didn't make too big of a fool of myself. I've got to go out of town for a couple of days. I went out to the Kent farm to get Clark to come and watch the store. He often does that for me."

"I knew you were making some stuff, and I'm sorry about Carl. I know he got into it. I ran into him outside of town. My horse almost stepped all over his face. It scared the mess out of us. It's been a crappy night out there."

He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hug her, but he was afraid to try that yet. "I hope it's not too late for me to try out the goods that you were baking?"

Piper smiled shyly, knowing that Cole was rambling and did not realize it. She still had trouble believing that he could be so tall and strong and yet so shy and nervous. His nervous way was one of the most charming things she'd ever witnessed.

"It's never too late," she commented, "unless the food's all gone, which, although Carl did manage to swallow an amazing lot in just a couple of minutes, there's still plenty." She waved a hand around, gesturing to the various trays of food that she and the others had been working on bringing together. She'd about decided she was going to give them the sweets for helping her clean up the mess she'd made when Cole had finally arrived.

"The strawberry tarts are all gone, though," she added, recalling Blanche's tirade with a twinge, "and I'm truly sorry for setting the wrong impression." She shook her head sadly and dropped her gaze again. "I should never have acted like my sister, but I could think of no other way to get Sheriff Cassidy out of here before he could question Paige and Dawn any further." She sighed.

Cole smiled down at her. "It's all right. I'm sorry I showed out when I came in. It's just . . . I couldn't stand the thought of some one touching you and you not wanting to be touched by them."

Gazing down into her face, he noticed that she had a small smudge of frosting on her cheek; he wanted to lick it off so desperately that he almost had to bite his tongue to keep from doing it. "So show me what you've made? I can't wait to taste it!" It looked like a dream world of sugary bites, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to take her to bed.

A blush grew around his collar the more he thought about it. He didn't know if he could behave like a gentleman or not. Naughty thoughts kept running through his mind. How he'd like to take her on the table even! But he knew he could not give himself away. He reached out, took a cupcake, and nibbled at the frosting, hoping that she could not read his mind.

He didn't ask her for any further details about her interaction with the Sheriff, and Piper was relieved. There was a small part of her, hidden deep down within, that wished he would ask her again so that she could tell him about the strange cat with the Witches who had buttoned his mouth closed, Blanche informing her that she would have to start taking on men, and the helplessness she felt at the horrors that Dawn was being forced through. He looked so strong and his arms so comforting that part of her believed he could wipe away all her problems so easily, but that was not the real world.

This was the real world, full of problems but also now, with his introduction into her life, sprinkled with moments to cherish, and, like it or not, it was the real world she lived in and the real world she had to contend with. Still, as long as the real world kept him in her life, it was far from being all bad, and she would grasp the real world in a heartbeat, she realized, if she had the opportunity to live in a fairy tale world with any one else playing her Knight in shining armor.

She began to walk amongst the counters, telling him what each item was and offering him tastes. She couldn't help but to relish the pleasure he clearly took in devouring each item, and slowly she began to forget about the increased worries the night had brought her. Still one thing lurked in her mind. She was going to have to tell him, or he'd hear about it from the townsfolk. It would be best if he heard it from her . . . wouldn't it?

"Your food is wonderful, fit for a King! These commoners will never appreciate it." Then he looked more deeply into her eyes and softly lamented, "I hate to see you so worried, Piper, and yet I don't feel I have the right to demand you to tell me why. I can only ask, as a friend, if you want to tell me something? I promise not to get overly angry again unless some one's hurting you. I will do what I can to help you."

"But first . . . " He was tired of fighting it. He wet his finger, swiped it gently on her cheek, and brought it back to his lips, imagining, even as his finger touched his tongue, that it was her flesh he was touching. How could one mere, mortal woman burn him up so much, he being who he was and knowing full well that he could never reveal himself or she would run shrieking into the dark?!

Piper stood, as though frozen in time, as she watched Cole lick the frosting from his finger and shivered through to the very core of her being. For one moment, a completely wild and crazy thought crossed her mind, but she pushed it aside with a deep blush. Cole was just after the frosting, she told herself. He could never want to eat _her_ that way, and it was shameful for her to even allow such wanton thoughts into her mind! Still, as their eyes locked, she shivered again.

* * *

Elvira sat alone in the saloon, her black eyes fixed on the doors. The only other activity in the entire room was Derek wiping counters and mugs and muttering about how every one had left him with the work and how he would fire Bobby as soon as he bothered to show his face again.

Elvira glanced from the door to Derek and studied the man for a moment. He had his back to her as he cleaned off another table. It would be so easy to walk over there and take him. She could sink her fangs into him before he even knew what happened or toy with him, seduce him, make him think she was going to take him on the table, and dine on him instead. It would be ridiculously easy, and he deserved it more than anybody else she'd encountered in months.

She thought of Hansel and of how badly Derek had hurt him, but then she thought of how Hansel had pleaded with her not to tell any one as she'd helped him fix himself up after one of the couple's numerous fights. Elvira shook her head. They could not do what had to be done without hurting Hansel themselves. Lorne was right. Faith had to be told, and little Dawn Summers should be just the ticket for doing so.

Derek turned around and gulped as he realized that Elvira had been watching him. She finished her strange, red drink, her black eyes never leaving his gaze. Then she slowly uncrossed her long legs, stood, and began to walk. Derek swallowed hard as he thought, at first, that she was coming at him, but then she turned and left the saloon. He shook his head in disbelief as thunder rattled the boards of the tavern again. What a loon!

* * *

Cole cherished each moment he had with Piper and wanted to take all worries away from her. He pulled a chair away from the table and pushed her gently toward it. When she sat, he kneeled by her feet and gazed upward into her beautiful face. He could sense that she was about to cry, and he made a silent vow that whoever was causing her tears was going to pay for it. "Tell me, little one, the troubles you sow."

She gazed down into his handsome face and marveled at the wonderfulness of the man before her. He was more gallant, kind, gentle, romantic, sweet, caring, and a million more good things than any one she'd ever come across before. His light sparkled in her world like a beacon of hope, a ray of brilliant sunshine sent to chase away all the darkness, an answered prayer . . .

And then, before Piper even truly realized she was talking, she began letting it all pour out. "Everything's so crazy around here, Cole!" she cried. "Dawnie went out to get some fresh air, just some fresh air and get away from all the disgusting things in the saloon for only a few minutes, and some sleazy, drunk cowboy moved on her. She was trying to get away from him when Buffy came out and offered him the both of them. She had no right to do it but did it any way! She and Dawn's mother, Joyce, are always doing things like that to her, and there's nothing I can do about it!"

"We really shouldn't be here, but I had nowhere else to turn, nowhere else to bring us when our mother and grandmother were burned -- " She did not realize that tears were streaking down her cheeks, but she stopped suddenly, her mouth still open, at the realization of the word that had just slipped out. If he knew her family were Witches, he'd either be terrified of her or think she was crazy! Either way she'd lose him!

{Oh, Piper,} she wailed silently, {what an idiot you are!} The troublesome word circled through her mind. {Burned . . . Burned . . . } She could say that they were burned in a house, but that would be lying. She couldn't . . . No, she _wouldn't_ lie to him!

"It's okay, honey," he whispered. "Don't cry. It was a long time ago when you were little. I know you've been here a long time."

He kicked himself silently for having brought them to this town, but he had known nowhere else to take them to. It was a good thing she didn't know he was the cause of them being there. "Go ahead and tell me. It's okay," he whispered soothingly to her even as he stroked her hand.

His touch felt so good that she wanted to feel it in other places. She wanted to feel his arms around her, his hands stroking her body. And he hadn't asked. He hadn't asked how they had burned, so she wouldn't tell him.

She gasped for breath and wiped her tears away, but more fell quickly in their place. "This is the only place we had to come to, and we were truthfully lucky to reach here when we did. We almost died out there, but Blanche took us in. She's not all bad, Cole."

She shook her head fervently. "I know she's not, but she doesn't understand. She takes such pleasure in doing the . . . the _things_ she does that she thinks all women should want to do them. She expects it of us all. That's why she doesn't do anything about Joyce or Buffy trying to force Dawn to become like them."

"She hasn't made me do any of it, but that -- that's about to stop, and it's all my fault. It really is." Fear, remorse, and sorrow all warred for dominance in her tear-filled, brown eyes.

"Something really weird was going on out there tonight, and it scared Dawn and Paige. Sheriff Cassidy was worried about them; he really didn't mean any harm. When he came in here to ask Dawn about seeing Trina Malloy's horse come back to town without Trina, he saw how troubled they were and wanted to know what was happening. But we couldn't tell him and I had to get rid of him."

"Emma Frost, who owns most of the saloon -- she gave Blanche the money to start it -- , saw me lead him out of the kitchen. I didn't do anything bad, not really, just kind of, sort of tricked him. I gave him a cupcake and got him to follow another one out. But she saw me and told Blanche and they were mad and now . . . " She shook her head, red coloring her face. Oh, how could she tell him?! How could she be so bold to put such a dirty, disgusting deed into words?!

"I can't do it! I can't, but I've got to or she'll end up kicking us out! Sophia says she'll protect us, but there's only so much she can do! Nobody can stop them! It's their business, their house! If I don't do what she says, we'll be out!"

Cole took a deep breath and got to his feet. Was it too soon? Sure he didn't have what he wanted -- the grand prize of what he was going to offer her --, but he didn't want her to stay in this awful place.

He knew what it was. He had known what it was when he had brought them there. They had been young and not able to go any further. He had almost lost her out there.

He had to take a chance. He gazed imploringly down into her eyes, hoping she would see only his desire to help her for fear that anything stronger would frighten her away. "What if you had somewhere else to live? Would you take it without question, or would you tell me 'no, thank you'?"

"My house is big enough. I give it to you. You can take your family and your crazy friend. I can live in the store. I don't have a problem with it. I have a back room."

"You and your family will be safe there." He knelt by her feet again, willing her to see the truth in his eyes that begged her to believe and trust him. "What's your answer? Don't think. Just feel. What's your answer?"

She stared at him in shock, her mouth wide open but her tongue being unable to form any words. She gazed at him and saw in him all she'd prayed for for years. Tears sped down her face.

The townspeople would think they were Cole's girls, but they already thought they were that type of people. Let them think what they would. She knew, in her heart and in her soul, that she could trust the man before her, though why he was so caring and giving she couldn't begin to understand. He was better than any one she'd ever known before; he _was_ the answer to her prayers!

She slipped from the chair, half on purpose as she was trying to reach him and half by accident as she'd not meant to fall, and collapsed into his arms. Her arms went around him and held him tight as she sobbed out, "Oh, yes! Yes! Thank you!"

He finally gave in to his feelings and pulled her close to him, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her with a very gentle kiss. Even though he wanted to let his passion show, this was not the time. This required gentleness.

"I'm going to be gone out of town," he told her. "Clark's going to be running the store. If you need anything, tell him. He'll get it for you." He reached in his pocket, took out his key, and pressed it gently into her hand.

"Get your stuff and leave this place tonight. Don't look back, and don't leave anything here you want. Hurry, Piper. Sometimes I feel that time is running out. You are my friend and my most precious gift. I don't want anything to happen to you." He gazed lovingly into her face, still holding her.

In his arms, she at last felt safe. Tingles raced through her body, and she realized that she finally had a home. It wasn't just the house he'd given her; the home she had found was with him. He'd be living in the store, but his kiss, gentleness with her, and giving way told her that he felt the same way about her that she had started feeling about him this morning. She was blessed to have him in her life and even more blessed, as well as honored and humbled, to have somehow won his love. She leaned up and kissed him gently.

Getting to his feet, Cole pulled Piper up and held her in his tender embrace. His lips deepened the kiss. He felt as though he could drink from her and never be hungry again. He hoped she did not return his passions because he was being good to her, and that somehow, she was attracted to him. He lost himself in the kiss, pledging his love without ever speaking a word.

All thoughts ceased in Piper's mind, and emotions reigned. Pleasure and joy coursed through her body, and her soul sang. She kissed him back, meeting his passion equally, and knew only the pure elation that being held in his arms and kissed by his sweet mouth brought. She had never been happier!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Despite the fact that Dawson was hotter than he could ever remember being, in the back of his mind, something was nagging at him. The rain kept peppering down on him, and it was only when he heard the kid mutter something, that he remembered that there was a kid and that Faith was more naked than she was dressed. He also realized that it was still raining, perhaps even harder than it had been before.

He murmured against Faith's lips, "Need to get in out of the weather, dearest. Kid might catch his death of cold." He held tightly to her, waiting for her to come to her senses or continue. Whichever she chose, he would gladly follow her.

Faith was about to kiss Dawson again when she heard something else in the storm. She looked up in the direction she heard the sound of hooves in but could see nothing but darkness. Even when lightning again hit the landscape, she did not see any riders, but she knew they were coming.

A quick cuss slipped from her lips as she thought of her gunbelt hung safely around Tornado's neck. She shook her head, glared at her brother over the small distance that separated them, and shouted at him over the thunder, "YOU'RE AN IDIOT!" She then snatched her pants from Dawson and jumped into them.

If Faith had not yelled, Hansel would never have heard her over the thundering of his heartbeat. He paused in kissing Jack only long enough to mutter, "What did I do now?", then kissed his new sweetheart again. Whatever he had done, he'd fix it later.

Jack wanted to growl at Faith for calling Hansel an idiot. What had he done that deserved that? he wondered. He heard the horses approaching and wondered who was coming. Were they a danger or a help?

He broke the kiss off gently. "Hansel, do you hear that?" He hoped desperately that it was friends, but if he had to fight to defend them, he would. How he longed for his knife, but it had been taken the night before! Was it only yesterday? It seemed like a million years ago that he had started running!

He didn't think it would be them. They never rode horses. Horses couldn't stand them. One whiff sent them into bucking madness.

Hansel's blue eyes grew wide as he nodded slowly. Instantly he realized why Faith had called him an idiot and silently agreed with her judgement. He hadn't thought to bring a single weapon with him, and Tornado had his sister's gun and duster!

Tonto moved closer to Hansel and dropped his long nose over the blonde's shoulder. Hansel reached a hand up and ran it gently over the horse's nose. The pinto bucked his hand for more, and Hansel gave it readily.

It might be possible for Jack and himself to outrun the coming riders on Tonto, but Hansel would never abandon Faith, Little Wild Cat, or even Dawson. He could probably persuade Dawson and the child to hide and let him draw the riders away, but even if Jack would hide with them, he knew Faith would never hide from anything. Riding was completely out of the question.

He patted Tonto's nose again, scratched him between the ears, and then jerked his thumb back toward the mountain. His eyebrows rose slightly as Tonto shook his mane. He was about to ask his friend why he refused to hide as he asked him, when he was normally quick to obey whatever request Hansel made of him, when Faith exploded and then things quickly went from bad to worse.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Faith muttered under her breath as she shrugged into her shirt, turned, and grabbed the dagger that she had embedded into the side of the mountain when she'd felt Hansel take Little Wild Cat from her back.

Jack's eyes lit up. There was a knife! He was great at knife fights! Would Faith give it to him, or would she give it to him if he asked for it? Did he dare ask her for it?

"Huh, Faith?" he ventured cautiously. "You could lead them to safety and give me the knife. I'll fight off whoever's coming," he offered, fully expecting her to slap him in the face with it. He still had to try.

Lightning reflected in Faith's eyes as she turned to Jack with a dark smirk. Then she was behind him, her knife pressed to his throat. "Still think that's a good idea, Jackie boy?" she whispered next to his ear.

"And why are you pulling your knife on me? I'm not the enemy, Faith."

"Just giving you an example," Faith told him, ignoring Dawson's and Hansel's shocked expressions. "Now be a good, little Gypsy and hide our guys and the . . . " That was when she realized that Little Wild Cat was no longer nearby. "Fuck!" The word exploded next to Jack's ear as she turned swiftly and watched the land while it was lit up by lightning to find the Indian child.

* * *

"You saw him too, didn't you?"

Paige stopped and looked at Dawn in surprise. She had been just about to go into her bedroom when the younger girl had walked up to her. Paige cut a glance around the hall to make certain no one else was there, then nodded carefully. "I -- I'm not sure exactly what we saw, Dawn, but I saw the cat too."

"We've got to do something, Paige."

"Like what? We can't go up against black magic!"

Dawn shivered at the phrase, but she knew that, as much as she wanted to discount Paige's assumption, there could not possibly be another reason for the button that had closed the cat's mouth. "We've got to try."

"How?"

"I . . . " She sighed. "I don't know, but there's got to be something we can do!"

"Dawn, think about it. If they've got the kind of magic to button a cat's mouth closed, who knows what else they can do? Do you really think we stand a chance?"

Dawn started to say something affirmative, but then her face fell. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew Paige was right. "No."

Paige gave Dawn's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I want to help him too, Dawnie, but there's nothing we can do."

"THERE YOU ARE!"

Both young women looked up at the yell. Dawn gulped, and Paige winced. "I . . . I wasn't hiding, Buffy," Dawn murmured as her older sister stormed up the hallway to her.

Buffy snatched Dawn's arm, pulling her to their bedroom. "I didn't say you were, Dawnie. You're not smart enough for that." She glared accusingly at her as she exclaimed, her voice a high, angry pitch, "You cost me a customer tonight!"

"How did I do that?" Dawn asked, her brown eyes wide and innocent.

"Whatever you were doing in that dratted kitchen, you didn't come out in time! He got tired of waiting, and he didn't want me without . . . "

"He didn't want _you_?" Dawn couldn't help asking, though she knew she would regret the question even as she spoke the words.

Buffy's fist slammed into Dawn's mouth, and Paige went scurrying for help. She wished she could do something to stop Buffy herself, but the last time she had tried, she had woken up hours later with black bruises around her throat from a confrontation she barely recalled.

* * *

Elvira felt eyes on her the moment she entered Blanche's. She swayed seductively to the bar, ignoring all the glances that came her way. The crowd had already thinned out, but still the few men who remained all looked her way. There was only one male in the entire place who seemed unphased by her appearance. He turned from pouring another drink for a cowpoke to face her. "What can I get you, madam?"

"You'll get her nothin', Coco." The woman's stern voice came from behind Elvira. The Vampiress tapped her black fingernails across the counter, waiting for the line that she fully expected to hear. "We don't serve her type here."

"What type is that, Blanche?" Elvira replied coolly, turning to look down at the redhead. "Any woman who happens to be prettier, sexier, or otherwise more appealing than yourself?"

Blanche's eyes flashed. "How dare ya say such a thing!"

Elvira smirked. "Oh, I dare, and I'll dare a great deal more. I didn't come here to take any of your customers or for a drink. I came here to speak to Dawn."

"The child's gone to bed."

"Sure she's a child now," Elvira countered, "when it's convenient for you to call her one."

"What does that mean?"

Elvira looked into Blanche's demanding gaze, and her own eyes shone solid black. There was not even the smallest trace of light therein as she told the woman, "I've been watching your place for a while now, Devereaux, and I've been listening. You hear things in the night, if you know how to listen, like a young girl's cry."

"If she cries, it's got nothin' to do with me!"

"And Hell has nothing to do with Lucifer."

"Are ya comparin' me ta the _Devil_?!"

"If the heel fits."

Blanche's eyes flashed with all the ferocity of the lightning that cut through the night sky outside. "Ya waltz yoah wanton self into mah place o' business, lookin' ta take mah workers, an' then call me the Devil?!"

"I didn't have to. You did a fine job of it yourself."

"Ah think it best ya leave now, missy."

"I think it best you keep your opinions to yourself, because I don't care to hear them unless you're going to tell me where Dawn's bedroom is." She peered down at Blanche, who was breathing hard as she fought to control her anger. The woman knew that if she slapped this woman in front of her, who was both stronger and younger (or, at least, appeared to be), she would have a fight on her hands that she could not win. Elvira smiled calmly down into Blanche's heated face. "I didn't think so." She slipped from the bar and headed for the stairs.

"Ya stop right there this instant!" Blanche demanded, pointing a finger at Elvira, who ignored her completely and instead started up the winding staircase. "D," Blanche cried, looking at a tall, gray-haired cowboy, "are ya gonna let her get away wit' this?!"

D sighed and put his mug down. He stood up from the table that he had been sharing with Sophia and Rose and started to walk toward the stairs.

Sophia shook her head. "Don't get involved in this."

"Ma, stay out of it."

Elvira was half-way up the staircase when D reached it. "Come down from there, miss."

"Come and get me."

The cowboy started up after her when Elvira's superior hearing caught the sounds of a struggle. She charged up the stairs.

* * *

Jack had been instantly glad when Faith had loosened her fierce grip on his throat. He had only meant to help. Apparently no one could help Faith, and now the girl seemed to be freaking out! At least she had let go of his throat!

He looked around for the kid as well. In the next streak of lightning, he saw a large gathering of horsemen and the kid running toward them. It seemed as though the kid knew them. Maybe things weren't as bad as Jack feared they were about to be?

He moved to where he was between Hansel and the group. He didn't have anything but his fists to protect Hansel, but he'd do his best. They'd have to kill him to get to Hansel. He had been beat far too much in his life, and he wasn't about to take this laying down!

Hansel let out a breath he hadn't realized that he was holding as he saw familiar faces amongst the group. "It's okay, darlin'," he said, touching Jack's shoulder reassuringly. "It's just the search party." But who was the white man who rode with them?

The tenseness drained out of Faith, but as the lead rider moved toward them, she walked back to Dawson and began slipping on her boots. Vin cast a glance over his shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of Little Wild Cat's father embracing his son. For a moment, he thought of another father who had lost his son. He was glad that Wild Cat would not suffer the same fate -- at least, not tonight.

His thoughts turned back to the woman responsible for the child's rescue. He brought his horse up short at the small group. "Hello, Faith," he spoke as the woman slid her dagger into her boot.

Jack sighed a breath of relief. It seemed like Faith knew everybody. There wouldn't be a fight this night. He sensed that the Indians would offer them help.

Dawson stood by Faith. He still could not believe that Jack had been stupid enough to make an offer to use Faith's knife. Even he was not that desperate, and he didn't think Jack would be again! He had not known Faith very long, but he knew that her weapons were her best friends. He wondered if there was a story behind the white man who rode with the Indians and how he knew his Faith.

Hansel noted, with surprise, that Faith was dressed before she turned to meet the stranger. He wondered if Dawson suspected that there had been something between the two of them before but quickly dismissed the idea. The kid was too wet behind the ears to pick up the subtlest of signals.

Faith turned to look up at Vin, and for a moment, memories flashed through her mind. He had been a good ride, but neither of their hearts had been involved. She wondered if he had managed to work things out with the black-clad gunslinger.

What had his name been? Calloway? Barrybee? Larabee? That was it. She nodded. "Tanner. How's Larabee?"

"Okay," Vin replied with a slight nod of his head to the men who accompanied Faith. He wondered which of them was her latest. "What brings you out here?"

"The kid."

Vin quirked a brow, finding it unlikely that she would have come out in search of Little Wild Cat when his people had not gone to her for aid. He let her answer slide, however, and suggested, "Got plans for tonight?"

"Get out of this weather," she returned, "and have a little fun." Her eyes cut back toward where Dawson stood.

Vin nodded. "Want to ride back with us?"

"Sure."

Jack could tell that there had been something between the man and Faith. It had probably been nothing more then a one night stand, but there was a strain between them that he hoped Dawson wasn't aware of. He saw the Indian boy being held by his Father and was glad to see that whatever had caused Little Wild Cat to run away now seemed to be over.

He moved closer to Hansel, wondering what had possessed him to offer to fight and knowing that Faith might want to gut him for attempting it. What was wrong with him, and why did he want Hansel to think he was good at fighting? Why did he have this overwhelming need to show that not only could he love him but that he could protect him from all comers when he didn't even have a weapon of his own?

Hansel must now think that he was stupid for coming up against Faith. Confronting Faith was a thing that no normal man would ever contemplate, and yet she had not killed him even though she'd had her blade at his throat. He knew she laughed at and scorned men, that she laughed at him, that she could have broken him in two as easily as some would break a stick . . .

What was wrong with him? He knew and trembled inside. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted all of Hansel forever but knew it was so wrong and so evil of him. He wanted to live with him and love him forever but knew he couldn't. He knew that deep down inside.

For just a moment, he cried out from all the unfairness of it. He knew that he had wanted Faith to kill him which he figured she could do so easily for challenging her. He knew it was far from over and that she would come back to him on it. She would be the death of him before he was the death of his beloved Hansel . . .

If only he could tell them, but they would not believe! If only . . . He slipped his hand into Hansel's, giving it a gentle squeeze and reassuring him that all would be well though he knew it could never be . . .

* * *

Time stood still as the greatest pleasure Piper had ever known flowed through her veins. The events of the last few minutes seemed to have come straight out of a dream to the point that she was beginning to believe she was indeed only dreaming when Paige burst through the door, her face ashen.

Paige came to a screeching halt when she saw Cole and Piper kissing. "I'm sorry!" she gasped out and turned to leave.

Piper reluctantly broke off the kiss, her shimmering, brown eyes telling Cole silently how sorry she was to have to do so. "No, wait! Paige, what's wrong?"

Paige looked hesitantly at the couple. "It's okay," she lied, knowing, even as she did, that Piper would see straight through her charade.

"Paige?" Piper demanded, one brow raised and the biggest smile she'd ever worn before in her entire life gone even more quickly than it had come.

Paige hung her head. "There's nothing we can do any way, Piper. If I'd known that you were . . . hum . . . happy, I would never have interrupted you."

"Do you need me to leave," Cole asked, "before you can tell your sister what's wrong? If you don't trust me, I'll leave."

"No," Piper said. Cole was saving them from fates that were quite possibly worse than death. Whatever Paige needed to tell her, she could certainly say in front of their rescuer.

"It's not that," Paige assured him with a quick shake of her head that sent her red bob bouncing. "It's just . . . " She sighed, her eyes dropping back to the floor and crimson still heating her cheeks. She shouldn't have come, but it was too late now. "It's just that Buffy's beating Dawn again."

"DON'T LET HER UP THOSE STAIRS!"

Piper's brows shot up in question. Since when did Blanche get involved at all in Dawnie's beatings? She gave Paige's shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze and thought once of telling her to stay there but decided against it. She'd be safer wherever Cole was. She moved toward the stairs.

The gun-toting cowboy known only as D looked down at Blanche. "D, AH'M TELLIN' YA DON'T YA DARE LET THAT HARLOT GET THE REST O' THE WAY UP THOSE STAIRS!"

"FORGET THE WHORE!" Sophia cried.

"_MA!_" D exclaimed, looking at Sophia in shock, then looking back at Blanche who waited expectantly with both hands upon her ample hips and a single eyebrow risen. His hand hovered on the handle of his gun. "LADY, STOP!"

"I've already told you, cowboy: you'll have to stop me!"

Elvira continued up the stairs, and D, though still uncertain as to what he was going to do, pulled his gun. He would never shoot a woman, but he wanted to please Blanche.

"STOP HER OR I'LL TELL -- "

D raised his gun.

* * *

Dawson was elated that he would get to see a real Indian village for the first time. He hoped they would let him write about them. Maybe he could even sketch some of them for his paper.

He wasn't as green as they thought him. He wasn't foolish enough to let Faith know that he could see that the one she called Vin had more of a past with her then she let on. He knew there were many who would say they had a past with Faith, but none of that mattered for he alone would have her for the future if he didn't screw things up and if he could keep making them think that he was dumb enough not to see.

The only thing that mattered to him was Faith. He still wasn't sure how he had come to love her so much so quickly, but one thing was clear to him: he had to keep the pretense up until just maybe, if he was lucky enough, she'd love him back just as he loved her and that maybe one day she'd want him to be her forever love!

If's kept circling through his mind like a flock of vultures clouding his thoughts so that he was unable to say anything. He reached out, not knowing if he wanted to reassure Faith or himself, to touch the one he loved to show his possessiveness but let his hand fall slowly to his side. He stood still, waiting and watching for her next move.

Vin turned and rode on ahead, calling to the Indians in their language as he did so. He doubted Faith would appreciate the offer, but it was too nasty a night to trek on foot.

Faith saw Dawson's hand drop out of the corner of her eye and realized that he knew that she had had something with Vin once upon a time. She should let him sweat it out, make him wonder just how important the sharpshooter was to her, but then she turned and saw the look in his eyes. Silently, not even being sure what motivated her except that she wanted to see his blue eyes light up again, she took his hand and kissed it.

Dawson shook to the very tips of his toes because Faith kissed him on his hand. He tilted her face up and kissed her gently on the lips, never once gazing directly into her eyes for fear of what he might see there.

Hansel held to Jack's hand and pulled him gently, leading him just far enough away from the others that they should not be able to overhear their conversation for the roaring thunder and howling winds that continued to plague the night. He unlaced his fingers from his, wrapped his arms around his body, and pulled him close. "I know what you were trying to do back there," he said, smiling, and never thinking that he might not be right.

Jack gave a small smile. "What did you think I was trying to do, Hansel? I sure wasn't trying to get your sister at my throat!" He tried to laugh it off.

"You were trying to protect me," he answered, smiling through misty eyes. He kissed his temple before moving his mouth to his ear and neck where he gently nuzzled him. He'd never had any other man stand up for him in his entire life. "She didn't mean anything by it, Jack," he tried to explain for his sister as he nuzzled his neck. "It was just her way of proving that she should be the one to protect us."

Jack didn't answer. He didn't know what to say, and he didn't want Hansel to get a glimpse inside of his heart for fear that he would lose him too soon. He felt torn. He knew that if he told Hansel what he was running from and just what had attacked him the night before, Hansel would run to Faith in fear not only for himself but for Jack and it would end up probably getting both Hansel and Faith killed.

"So we're going to an Indian village?" He tried to change the subject. "Never been to one of those. What do you do there?"

Something was bothering him, something bad that he wasn't ready to tell him about yet. Hansel decided not to push the subject but vowed to keep a close eye on this wonderful man who had fallen into his life and completely turned his world upside down for the better. He'd prove to him that Faith wasn't the only one capable of protecting those she loved.

"Almost anything you want," he said, pulling back slightly and looking at Jack with a smile that he hoped was reassuring. His breath threatened to catch. Was it only his imagination, or did his Gypsy lover grow ever sexier each time he gazed upon him? "Just follow me, and you'll be fine."

* * *

Cole left Piper and walked out in time to hear all the play of words. He looked at D and had to bite back a smile. He recognized her but wouldn't give her away. He looked up the stairs, and there was Elvira heading straight up.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," he told D. He moved so fast that he grabbed the gun before D could shoot it. "Never shoot any one in the back," he told her. Then he looked at Blanche, his eyes darkening. "I'll tell. One more step out of you, and I'll tell."

He took the gun and threw it about as far as he could throw it. It went sailing out over the batwing doors of the saloon and into the street. "Stay out of it. It's not your concern."

He then headed toward the stairs and began to go up behind Elvira. He didn't want to have to fight a woman, but he really wanted to hurt Buffy. He didn't want to run over Elvira, and he thought the woman could handle herself. If not, he'd be there to stop it.

Blanche looked incredulously at D but made no move to say or do anything further. "What do you want me to do?!" D cried. "He took my gun!"

Sophia burst out laughing, and both the cowboy and the madam cut furious glares at her. The old woman paid them no attention, however, as she continued to laugh. Rose joined in her laughter, although the blonde was uncertain just what she was laughing about.

Piper had kept Paige back until she was certain Cole had the situation well in hand. She marveled at how fast he had sped to stop D from shooting Elvira and wondered what on Earth he and Blanche were threatening to tell. What secret could possibly stop both D and Blanche? What secret could the woman possibly have that she had not learned in all the years her sisters and herself had been trapped here, having to live under her thumb?

Then Cole was moving up the stairs, and Piper headed right behind him, dragging Paige by her hand. The sisters followed Cole swiftly, each holding their skirts slightly up with their free hand, just high enough over their simple shoes that they would not trip over them in their haste.

Elvira didn't know where the man who pretended to be nothing more than a storekeeper had come from, but she was glad for him. The threat of being shot had not frightened her in the least, but she had realized that, if her secret had gotten out, she would be forced to leave town and was loathe to leave her new friends behind. Once Cole had stopped D, who smelled just like a woman despite his outward appearance, Elvira shot up the stairs.

Elvira entered the hallway just in time to see Buffy holding her sister by the neck and pressing her fragile body hard into the wall. She puzzled over the dent that had been made in the wall for a full half of a second; then she was on Buffy. Her hands covered the blonde's as she fought to pull her off of Dawn. "Let go!"

Buffy was stronger than she looked and managed to hold her ground against the Vampiress. "Stay out of this, bitch!"

Elvira hissed as, for the first time, she sensed something powerful about Buffy. Dawn gurgled helplessly, and Elvira released her claws. Her black fingernails bit into the tender flesh of the backs of Buffy's hands, then swiftly drew gaping holes in her arms as they slashed upwards. Buffy cried out in pain, and Dawn dropped to the floor.

Cole had not interfered. If women had to fight with women, he would rather it be that way. He had never once yet hit a woman. He moved over and helped the child to stand. He knew Piper and Paige had followed him.

"If you ever touch her again," Cole said through gritted teeth, looking down at Buffy with fire dancing in his dark eyes, "I will not be responsible for what I will do to you. From this day forward, you will not speak to her, and you will not seek her out for if you do, I will not be responsible for what will happen to you."

He pushed Dawn toward Piper. "Get her things. Take her with you." He could hear Buffy sputtering in the background and knew that Elvira just wanted another chance to catch the bitch. He so longed to lob a fireball right straight into her, but he knew he dared not!

Piper caught Dawn before she could drop to the floor, realizing that the confrontation she had just gone through with her sister had completely drained her and that she did not even have enough strength left to stand on her own two feet. Her arms had barely gone around Dawn when Joyce came into the hall and screeched at them to leave her daughters alone and Buffy made a go at Cole.

* * *

Hansel looked up as Vin returned accompanied by an Indian. "You can ride our ponies double on the way back to the village."

Hansel was glad the dark of the stormy night hid his grimace. He knew Faith wasn't going to take well to the invitation and doubted Dawson would either. After all, what man wanted his woman riding with another man? For that matter, what man wanted his lover, regardless of gender, riding with somebody else? He was glad Jack and he had Tonto and thankful, yet again, for the horse's loyalty.

Faith pulled slowly away from Dawson. Somehow, while they had been kissing, her hands had ended up cupping his face. He looked so handsome but also so innocent that it was almost a heart-rending combination. The storm had already soaked him through to the bone, and she knew that, although she could make the journey on foot, he could not. She tried again to catch his gaze, but once more he avoided her.

"It'll be okay," she whispered to him, thinking that the Indians must be making him nervous. "They're allies. We'll be there before you know it, and there'll be a teepee waiting for just the two of us." She stepped so close to him then that there was nothing separating them but their clothes. She rubbed her womanhood against the swell in his trousers as she kissed him gently before stepping reluctantly back.

Vin held his hand down expectantly; Faith pretended not to see it. She moved to one of the Indian warriors instead and mounted swiftly behind him.

Dawson reached up and took the hand of Vin. He felt himself almost lifted completely off the ground with very little effort. He barely managed to get on the horse before it took off like a shot out of a cannon.

Jack swallowed. Why did he feel like tears were about to come out? He was tired, wet, frustrated, and angry, not at those around him but at his past that he couldn't outrun. "Sounds like fun," he finally managed to get out. "Teach me how to be an Indian?" He kissed Hansel on the tip of his nose. "Lead on, my heart."

Hansel grinned into Jack's eyes, though he was aware that the group was waiting on them. "I much prefer you as a Gypsy, lover," he murmured before kissing him full on the mouth.

Jack deepened their kiss slowly, wishing that they were anywhere but in front of the Indians who all seemed to be boring holes into him with angry eyes. He clung to Hansel as though he was his savior, hoping he didn't make a wrong move and cause the Indians to attack. Jack found that he did not want to be anywhere else except near Hansel at this particular moment in time, despite the Indians and the relentless storm that seemed Hellbent to last for all eternity.

Sensing Jack's sudden stiffness, Hansel pulled slowly back. He gazed into his eyes, letting him see the truth in his vision, as he assured him again, "It's okay. They're friends." He planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Turning to the gathered group, he grinned with only slight shyness at the realization that they had all been watching him kiss Jack. He winked at them and told them, in their language, that Jack was his new mate. Cheers went up amongst the warriors. Many fists charged up into the air, and congratulations rained down upon him. At last their Hansel might be coming back to them! Finally there would be no more of the white man called Derek pulling him away!

Jack smiled at the Indians, wishing he knew what they were saying and if they were discussing whether or not they would eat them for supper despite the fact that Hansel had said they were friends. When their yells broke out and their fists went into the air, Jack looked at Hansel questioningly for he had spoken to the Indians in their own language. When Hansel explained to Jack that he had introduced him to his friends, Jack blushed. He was definitely looking forward to getting to know them better. He could not wait to get to the village.

Behind him, Dawson could hear yelling and screaming. He closed his eyes tightly. It seemed the Indians had gone on the warpath, and he feared for Jack and Hansel. He knew Faith could take care of herself, but those two would definitely be doomed if they were attacked by the Indians. Their scalps would be lifted!

Vin sensed the kid's sudden fear and turned his horse around so that he could look back to see what had caused the Indians to break out into such a joyous celebration. He grinned as bits and pieces of their shouts came to him over the wind and thunder. "Do you know a Derek?" he asked the boy, trying not to laugh at some of the comments the natives were making.

"Yeah. Why?" Dawson's eyes gleamed in the darkness as he gazed at Vin.

"Seems like he must be one heck of a character," Vin replied, laughing. His blue eyes twinkled merrily. Despite knowing Faith well, he wasn't familiar with Hansel, but the man was clearly important to the tribe. He had sensed Dawson's and Jack's nervousness about the Indians, so he figured Hansel must be the blonde man.

"I only met him today," Dawson admitted. "I didn't like him, and I don't think anybody else does." He breathed a sigh of relief as he could see the Indians were plainly not attacking Jack and Hansel. "What are they saying about Derek?"

Vin wished he could see the boy's eyes for he did not want to reveal anything that might be a secret, despite how tightly Hansel had held to Jack. "Seems he's been causing trouble for Hansel, keeping him away from his friends, but that's not going to be a problem any longer."

"Those two . . . " Dawson said. "I think they're in love. At least they act like they are. I don't know either of them very well, but I don't think Jack's going to let anything hurt Hansel."

"If he loves him," Vin said simply, "he won't." He heard a call from up ahead, let out a long whistle to draw the others' attention, and then galloped on toward the village.

* * *

Elvira had stepped back to wait and watch for a new reason to attack the blonde bitch who had been beating her own sister. When Buffy lunged at Cole, she caught her again, jumping onto her back and bringing her down underneath her. The two women rolled, slashing at each other with their fingernails and kicking and hitting with all the strength each possessed.

Elvira's high heel bit down into Buffy's ankle, but the blonde slammed her fist into the Vampiress' face so hard that her head snapped back. With anger clouding her judgement, Elvira let go with another hiss and gnashed her teeth at Buffy. Buffy defended her face with an arm, then screamed when Elvira bit her arm.

Piper ignored Joyce's screams of protest and Elvira and Buffy rolling together on the floor. "Come on, Dawnie," she told her. "Our dreams have come true, thanks to the miracle that Cole is providing us. We're leaving."

Paige's mouth dropped open. She'd heard what Cole had said but had been unable to believe it until she heard her sister agree. Her eyes darted back and forth between her older sister and their rescuer.

Joyce blocked their path. "Just where do you whores think you're taking my daughter?"

"One," Paige told her, "we're not the whores that the rest of you are. Two, she may be your daughter, but you've never treated her like she was anything more than a way for you to make more money and a puppet to do with what you wanted."

"She _is_ mine to do with what I want!" Joyce exclaimed. "They both are, and you're not getting either one!" She grasped Dawn's arm and pulled. Piper tried to pry her hands free, but Joyce held on determinedly until Paige slapped her face with all the strength she possessed.

Joyce fell backwards. Piper ushered Dawn forward, walking her carefully around her mother's fallen form. Paige stood still, shaking her hand. "Ouch!"

Cole moved around the fallen woman until he could put a booted foot on her back. He pressed downward, hoping to give her the idea that it would be an easy thing for him to snap her back. "If you come after her or try to cause her any harm in any way, I'll be back, and I won't let Elvira do the fighting. She's going to get her things, and she's leaving here tonight. Don't come after her if you value your life." He removed his foot.

"Are you okay?" he asked Paige, hoping the girl had not broken her hand as it looked like she had broke Joyce's nose.

Paige flexed her hand cautiously. Piper had gone on ahead and was undoubtedly helping Dawn collect her things. "I -- I think so. I'm just . . . " She grinned uncertainly. " . . . a little shocked." She met his eyes. "I did hear you right, didn't I? You're making it able for us to leave?"

"Who's leaving?" Phoebe asked, stepping out of her bedroom. She was the only one of the sisters to manage to get her own bedroom for she had told Blanche that it was a necessity for her to able to entertain as many men as she sometimes did.

Paige closed her eyes and groaned slightly. Not Phoebe! Not now!

"I'm taking your sisters and Dawn out of this mess tonight. You've chosen your bed. You can lay in it, or you can clean up your act and come with us," Cole told her. "If you want to come with us, you'd better move it fast." How he longed to lob a fireball into the establishment and burn it straight to Hell along with the smirking bitches who ran it!

Phoebe looked at Cole and Paige in obvious surprise. She looked Cole pointedly up and down, then did her younger sister the same way. "_You're_ going with _him_?" Then she took in the sight of Joyce laying on the floor and Elvira ripping into Buffy's arm with her teeth. Her brown eyes grew so big that they nearly shot out of her face. "You've all gone crazy!"

A moan came from the room behind her, and she suddenly straightened. "Coming, baby!" She looked once more condescendingly upon Cole and Paige and laughed. "And you two had the audacity to call me a whore!" She slammed the door in their faces.

Paige looked at the door where her sister had been and blinked. Then she harrumphed. "That went over better than I thought it would."

She looked back at Cole and thought of the poor, defenseless cat whose torture she had borne witness to earlier. Would he believe her? There was only one way to find out. "Cole," she questioned urgently, "do you believe in magic?"

"Unfortunately. I've had first hand experience with it. It's not always good, more often evil. Not the magic itself but the ones who use it. Why?"

She looked at him and hesitated, but then she thought of how this brave, gallant, and strong man was coming to the rescue of herself, her good sister, and a young girl who was more of a sister than the bitch who had just slammed her door in their faces would ever be. She had to trust him, and he had given her every reason in the world to do so.

"Dawn and I saw something crazy tonight," she blurted out, "completely crazy, but we both saw it so we know it had to be real. There are Witches here; they call themselves the Spellmans. They have a black cat, and they had his mouth shut with a _button_! Dawn and I wanted to help him, but we couldn't figure out what we could do to do so!" She looked directly into his eyes. "Can we do something?"

A loud pounding made her jump so that she stood beside Cole. She looked back to see Buffy laying still upon the floor and Elvira getting to her feet. Elvira wiped blood from her mouth, then grinned embarrassedly at Cole and Paige. She'd hoped the girl would not see her get up.

Cole shook his head in disbelief. Elvira had just pounded Buffy's head yet again into the floor. He had to admire the woman. Not only did she have spunk, but she had talent! She was getting in hits where he would love to get in hits but could not because he could not give himself away.

"We can do something, Paige," he told her, "about this mess, but we can't get too involved because if we do, they'll turn on us. We don't have the power to fight back against them, so we'll have to be sneaky about this. Do you know where they put the cat?"

"In one of their rooms," Paige started, "but I'm not sure which. I know the women are spending the night with LeBeau, though. The young one might be, too; I don't know for sure."

Elvira sniffed while Paige talked. One sniff was all it took to locate the feline in question. She looked to Cole and nodded once, hoping he'd take the hint and get rid of the girl.

"Go help your sister pack up Dawn's stuff so we can get out of here. Elvira and I will get the cat."

* * *

Hansel beamed in the light of his friends' cheers, and his heart swelled with the knowledge that he had made the right decision earlier that night when he had vowed to lay off of Derek. For just a fleeting moment, he thought of the years he had lost and the pain he had suffered, and his face darkened as emotions swam in his blue eyes. Then he pushed those thoughts away. Tonight was the start of his new life, and he would suffer no more because of Derek. He would live for his family, for his friends, for Jack, and for just the sheer happiness of doing so. There would be no more dark days, he vowed.

Tonto bumped his nose against Hansel's shoulder, and Hansel turned and took the horse's face in his hands. He leaned his forehead against his and gazed into his deep, brown eyes. Already the Indians were beginning to follow those who had left, but still Hansel lingered. He whickered softly to Tonto, who had once, and for years, been his best friend outside of Faith. When the horse hesitated, Hansel whickered again.

It took a third prompting from Hansel before Tonto finally answered him. Sadness seemed to shimmer in the horse's eyes as he blew out a sharp breath against Hansel's face. Hansel sighed, shook his head, rubbed his face against Tonto's, and scratched both of his ears. He had even let Tonto suffer because of Derek.

No more! his heart cried. Standing straight once more with a fresh sheen of determination glistening in his eyes, Hansel released Tonto's face and moved to the saddle. He went through the bags, removing what little was there and stuffing it into his own pockets. He then quickly removed the saddle and bridle and threw them, with a look of pure disgust, onto the desert ground. He left only a printed, woven blanket upon the pinto's back, and the horse whinnied happily as Hansel sprung onto his back.

Jack's mouth had fallen open in shock at all the things Hansel had discarded upon the desert sands. What did it mean? he wondered. He was still a little heated from all of the Indians knowing what was going on but at least they had seemed to approve.

"Honey bear?" he called up to Hansel, confusion showing in his face. "Why are you leaving these things? Don't we need them?"

He admired the way Hansel talked to his horse and longed to have a horse of his own again. He had once had one who he could talk to, but she had been killed along with his people and he'd never had another since. Sheharizard had died in his arms, the last living, breathing member of his clan except for Brendan and him. He could still hear her soft whickers. He'd have to tell Hansel about her one day.

Maybe he'd find another one, but they'd never be the same. But no, that would never happen. He couldn't allow another member of his family to be in danger. He gazed up at his lover, waiting for his reply and hoping that Hansel had not taken leave of his senses.

The howling winds whipped at Hansel's shaggy, blonde hair, and for a fleeting moment, the blonde realized what a sight he must make even as he wished he had never cut his hair. Ah, but to feel the wind rake its fingers through his long, golden locks again! He shook off the memories once more and focused on the man he was feeling ever surer would be his future as well and as vividly as he was now his present.

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, Jack. You met me as Hansel. You called me your buffet and your honey bear, both names I will wear with honor as long as you'll let me. But I am known by another name, as well, one that I have ignored for far too long. I was taught by the woman who gave me that name that there is no need for most of the things the white man offers, especially those things that would hurt any other living being."

He ran a hand lovingly over Tonto's spotted neck and pure white mane. The lightning that struck the hills reflected in his blue eyes. "Love me as you will, my sweet, sweet Gypsy, but know me as all that I am. Call me what you will, but know that I will, from this night on and until the day I die, also answer forever to the name of Golden Bear."

His eyes searched Jack's as he held his hand out to him. "When you fell into my life last night, Jack, I had no idea what was going to happen to us, or to me, because of you. I would never have believed that I could feel the way I do about you, or about any one else other than the man that I foolishly thought I was in love with. Yesterday is the past that you saved me from. Will you ride with me now into the future?"

His heart hammered in his ears. He wasn't sure where he had found the words to state his speech with, but he felt every word he had spoken from the very core of his heart. His soul hummed. Finally he was free! Now if Jack would just take his hand, the future would be theirs, his heart would fly, and his soul would sing as it hadn't done since he had been but a small lad learning to live his life as an Indian!

"The honor will be mine," Jack replied, smiling up into the handsome face of his beloved. He gave him his hand and then swung up behind him on the horse. His arms went around him, and he nuzzled the back of his neck.

"So, my love, you are an Indian? Teach me to be one to. I want to be wild and free with you, to live with your people, and to be with you forever!" He squeezed him gently, his arms around his waist.

He wished with all his heart that that could truly happen. As long as he was able, he'd live wild and free with Hansel, but he knew his time was running out and he'd take it far away from them. He would not let them be destroyed. He prayed for a little more time to live and love this wonderful man he had been lucky enough to find.

In the distance, the Indians had stopped and were looking back for their lost brother to join them. Hansel let the joy of his soul spill from his lips in an unintelligible shout; Tonto whickered happily at the same time. They shot out, galloping at speeds that Hansel hadn't moved at in years, but still his heart shot higher. Jack loved him! The future was full of brightness and joy, after all!

Jack's blood raced through his body, heated from the mere touch of Hansel and the wildness that now wanted to cry out from his own veins. He wanted to embrace his heritage that no longer existed. Therefore he would embrace his love's heritage and make it his own. They would be together for as long as possible, and Hansel would be his love for all eternity or, at least, as long as eternity lasted for Jack! He echoed Hansel's primeval yell with the howl of a wolf that had at long last found its mate.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Cole looked at the two women laying on the floor; neither one of them moved. He stepped around them. Standing in front of Elvira, he told her, "I know who you are, and I can imagine you can smell me. Thank you for helping. I know you work at The Focker Inn, and I appreciate you coming way over here to take care of some business I'm not able to right now. Can you steal the cat, or do I need to get in the act?"

"I can get him," Elvira assured him, "and yes, I know what you are. I don't know why you're playing it so hush hush, but that's your secret to keep. Keep mine, and you won't have to worry about my loose lips." She had seen Paige hurry after Piper and Dawn when Cole had told her to go help them but was aware that Joyce was still conscious and that they must be careful with what was said.

"I didn't come over here just to help you, but I'm willing to help you out and appreciate the rescue you're giving the girls. It's long overdue." She cocked her head slightly to one side as she considered the delicious specimen of Demon before her. "I'd actually come to ask Dawn for a favor. I've got another situation sort of like this but different that needs dealing with. Think you can help me out later?"

"Sure can. Loose lips sink ships, and we're not sinking any ships." He winked at her. "Go get that cat, lady. I think you can do anything you set your mind to."

Elvira returned his wink. "If you hadn't already fallen in love with Piper, handsome, I might just prove you right." Then she raced down the hallway without giving him a chance to reply. Her mind went briefly to the handsome man called Wolf, and she wondered just what he was getting in to tonight.

Cole stood watchfully in the hall. If either of the women moved to get up, he'd put them back down there. This had to be done in secret for he didn't want the Spellmans to be able to track them down. He knew about them all right, and he felt sorry for the cat. He hoped it would not take Elvira long to bring the cat to safety and that the button was gone. If not, he would have trouble removing it without calling attention to himself.

* * *

Lightning slashed through the dark sky again, and the woman dressed in buckskin ducked further down into her hiding place. Her arms instinctively covered her head. She wished for about the thousandth time that she had left home earlier, but it had been late when her mother had finally granted her permission to go to the one friend they had in the white man's village, who also happened to be the town doctor, for help. She wished fervently that her mother would wake from the fever and knew that the moment the storm broke would be a sign that her mother had regained consciousness.

She wished that she had some of her mother's abilities to control the storm, but unfortunately the only power she knew that she had was that of being able to move objects without touching them. It was a gift they'd been told long ago by the only other villager to ever befriend their tiny tribe was called telekinesis, but it was also a gift that would remain nearly useless to her until she could learn to control it. She hoped that one day she would be able to control her power so well that it would be as useful as her mother's gift of controlling weather, but for now, it was more of a nuisance then a help because more often than not it backfired on her and caused even more trouble.

She shivered as the storm raged, and she thought back over the last few days. It was a mysterious ailment that had befallen her people and seemed almost as though they had angered a God. They had tried everything at their disposal, but though they would feel better, every time they would get sick again. They had honored all the Gods, even the strange ones of Xena and Gabrielle, but still they continued to get sick.

She frowned, her forehead creasing with worry, and placed a hand to her churning stomach. She refused to be sick now, and crying was simply out of the question. Warriors did not cry, and she was a warrior every bit as proud and strong as her mother.

She would make her mother proud, the girl vowed. She would bring back help. Her people would be saved. They would be well and happy again. Then the thunder boomed, and she tried her best to crawl further down into her hole.

She hoped the storm would soon pass and that she could continue on to the doctor's house. She scrunched up as tightly as she could in the hollow tree, hoping that the lightning would not hit her hiding place. Finally it began to move slowly off in the distance, and she came out of the tree and started yet again for Doctor Richards. She hoped that the storm's passing meant that her mother had reawakened, but it had been so long since the storm had began that she could not be sure. She prayed as she walked, lost deep in thought.

* * *

Elvira raced down the hall, the fabric of her black dress swishing wildly about her long, pale legs. She followed her nose pass room after room, pausing at only one door for a moment. She could hear four voices raised in ecstasy therein and, for just a moment, she remembered the days when she would have been happy to partake in such.

She shook her head, breaking the spell of memories that threatened to come down upon her. That was the old Elvira who had died when she'd lost her fiance. There was no more room in her life for such guiltless trips of free passion and wild sex.

Elvira pushed on until she finally reached the door where the smell of the one feline in the entire saloon was coming from. She tried the knob, smiled when she found it unlocked, and slipped inside. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!"

"Hello, dreamboat!" The cat purred as his long, black tail swished. He grinned at Elvira. The sexy woman was exactly what he had been praying for!

Elvira's eyes widened as she looked at the black cat who sat at attention on the bed, his claws briskly kneading a pillow underneath him. "Come right this way, sex kitten, and we'll make my dream come true!"

She laughed. "Why, you've got a naughty, naughty mind! Tell you what: How about we make your other dream come true?"

"Which one?" Salem asked, his tail whisking through the air.

"The one where you ditch the Spellmans."

His mouth opened; his tail stopped moving. "R-Really?" he questioned tentatively, realizing, for the first time, that her entrance into his life must truly be only a dream.

Elvira nodded. "Really." She picked him up from the bed, and he nestled readily into her arms, his head laying against her breasts, which were mostly already out of the skimpy material of her dress. "Got anything you want to bring with you?"

Salem grinned, his emerald eyes lighting with mischief. "The book," he told her, "over there on the stand by the window." If this was a dream, he might as well take it for everything he could.

Elvira liked the way the cat's mind thought! She grabbed the book and ran back to Cole with it tucked underneath one arm and the cat cuddled in her other arm.

* * *

She had given up her watch of the place with the horses after growing tired of waiting for her brothers to return and had instead gone to hunt them. Her people could smell one of their own for miles, and she had no trouble picking up their scents and rushing after them. When she realized that they had left the town and headed into the woods, she smiled to herself. Maybe they had found them something good to eat for dinner! She hoped so for they had not eaten for a good long time and her stomach was making huge rumbling noises. She grinned and licked her dirty tongue over her yellowed fangs.

She was hungry enough to eat a dragon but hoped that they had found something much more tender. Images of food began to run through her mind, each more delicious than the last. The image of a virgin wrapped in leather vanished as she began to hear their noisy complaining. She quickly determined that they had caught something and were fighting over it.

She growled, her eyes flashing. Her idiot brothers were always stealing the best snacky-snacks and keeping them for themselves! Maybe if she hurried, she might get lucky, catch them off their guards, and be able to grab the lion's share before they knew that she was upon them.

* * *

Cole had to quickly recover himself from the sight of his ex-leader's cat form. He knew Salem would know that it was him right away. He prayed that the cat would not give him away. He'd have to talk to him later and let him know that he was on the good side this time.

"Hello, Salem. Ready to ditch this place?" He glanced at the book briefly but didn't say anything. That was one book that did not need to be in the Spellmans' hands. It belonged to Salem. Actually, it belonged ten feet under the ground somewhere, but it was not going to get there any time soon and it was better not to leave it in the hands of the Spellmans.

"Cole, you sly Demon!" Salem exclaimed, grinning. His tail whisked across Elvira's breasts, and he kneaded her arm. Elvira was surprised at how good it felt.

Cole put his finger to his lips. "Don't let that get out, boss. The walls have ears, my friend. Some of us are not at liberty to use our . . . " Cole looked down at one of his fingernails as though it had a life of its own. " . . . shall we say, gifts?"

It had been far too long since he had seen Salem. Alas they had tried and not succeeded! It was a shame what the Elders had done to him! He had not been sure where he had been placed and was surprised to find him at long last for he had been looking for him a long time and could hardly believe he had finally found him nor that he was about to finally rescue him!

"Your secrets have always been safe with me, Cole," Salem reassured the man who had been one of his very best agents. He did not realize he was purring. "Leave it to you to find a way to save me and with such a beauty too!"

Joyce had been straining to see who this Salem character was. When she finally managed to squirm around until she saw him and realized it was a cat talking, she promptly fainted. Elvira grinned down at her, then turned her attention back to the conversation at hand. "You wouldn't be _the_ Salem Saberhagen?" she asked, looking down at the cat she held.

"The one and only, beautiful," Salem said with a wink, "so you be sure you hold me just right and I might reward you when I do own the world."

She laughed but had to admit, "You should have won."

"It's not over until the fat lady sings, and Hilda in the bathhouse doesn't count." He grimaced at the memory. He hushed as he heard a man's footsteps approaching.

Cole looked up, startled. He had been paying too much attention to Salem and not enough to their surroundings. An enemy could be approaching!

* * *

The Indian woman froze into place, her thoughts shattering, when she heard something just ahead growling. She hoped she wasn't about to encounter something that wanted to attack and eat her but knew, in the pit of her stomach, that that was exactly what lay ahead. For just a moment, she thought of going back or at least around, but Brendan's house was directly ahead and she had to reach him. Time was of the essence for she did not know how much longer any of her people could handle being sick. Already they had grown weaker than she had ever seen them before, and she feared for their lives.

With her heart in her throat and her hand on her dagger, she crept slowly forward until she could see what was making such a commotion. She gasped aloud at what she saw in the clearing. It shocked her so badly that she barely got her hand over her mouth in time to stifle her shriek.

Before her, two huge creatures loomed over a blonde female covered in blood. She had been smelling an awfully wretched odor for a good mile despite the storm's residue and realized now, as it assailed her nostrils freshly, that the horrid stench was coming from the two beings ahead of her. They seemed to be dripping slime and were surely the ugliest things she'd ever seen. Even as she watched in shocked disbelief, the bigger of the two ripped the girl's throat out with one swift, smooth motion of his claws. The other creature kept muttering about how they had best take their dinner to Bluebell even as blood seemed to rain down everywhere on them.

The young warrioress slowly began to back up. There was nothing she could do for the girl, and she had to get to the doctor's house. She knew that she would be safe there and knew, too, that she had to get him to her people with all the quickness of a fox. She was unable to tear her eyes away from the scene before her as she stepped backwards. Then she accidentally stepped on a stick that broke with a loud snap, alerting the monsters that they were not alone.

* * *

Cole was relieved to see Coco step into the hallway. "Some of the ladies are moving out, Coco. I hope you're not going to put up any trouble about it."

Coco had one hand on his hip while the other swung harmlessly through the air at his waist, the fingers of that hand splayed. "Blanche did send me up to throw you out, and I should be upset that you threatened her, but . . . " He grinned at him, white teeth shining. "Are Piper and Dawn amongst those moving out?" He saw Joyce and Buffy laying unconscious upon the floor, but despite his reassurances to Blanche that he would make certain Cole and Elvira caused no more trouble, he had no interest in stopping them.

"I'm taking Piper, Paige, and Dawn out, and you didn't see him," he said, pointing at the cat.

Coco winked as he saluted Cole. "Anything you say, handsome. Now where are my dear girls?"

"They're in their rooms packing." Cole decided to ignore the "handsome". "Are you happy here? If not, there's always an open invitation to my house. Piper has the key, and I know you're one of her friends."

Elvira smiled; Coco reminded her of Bobby. She wondered how the guys were faring and hoped they were okay. Maybe she should ask Cole to check on them? Then again -- she glanced at Buffy's unconscious form -- she was on a roll tonight . . .

The question took Coco by surprise. He hesitated, unaware that his mouth hung slightly agape as he did so. "I . . . " he finally spoke. "I have . . . obligations here, but thank you."

"Remember that the offer stays open so if you ever need anything, tell Piper." Elvira's fidgeting was causing Cole to now glance at her and wonder what she was up to.

"I will, sweetheart, and thank you but for now, I think I'll just say good-bye to my girls. I would tell you you'd best take good care of them, but I know you will." He wriggled his nose at him and batted his eyelashes as he walked pass him. His fist fell quietly upon Piper and Paige's door.

* * *

The Indian fought to keep from screaming as the creatures sniffed the air and turned to face her. Terror flashed through her as their eyes looked directly into hers and she knew that they saw her. Still holding onto the body, they started running after her, howling like wolves gone mad.

She was not aware of the scream that burst from her lungs as she fled. She ran so hard and fast that her sides began to hurt but knew she couldn't stop for even a moment's rest would bring her death. She could hear them and knew they were coming fast, maybe even faster then she was or could, and that soon they would catch her.

She prayed for a miracle as she raced, barely aware of the animals that were scurrying all around her, fleeing just as frantically as she herself was. Trolls! they screeched, and her heart thundered even harder inside its cage. These were the beings her mother had warned her about! Even worse than the white man, they were truly the worst of predators, and to encounter one alone was as good as to face Death herself.

She fell as she entered a clearing. She rolled and leapt back to her feet, and then, just ahead, she saw the doctor's house. A part of her, hidden deep down, wanted to weep with relief, but she knew she wasn't out of danger yet for she could hear the Trolls bursting into the clearing just behind her. She ran across the grass, glad for the races she had ran against the foals as a child for they had taught her to run with the wind and she would have already been killed if she had moved any slower.

She stumbled up the porch and grasped the knob, praying she could get in and bolt the door before they caught her. She knew Doctor Richards would protect her. He was a good man and strong. If any man could fight a Troll and win, it was him. Besides didn't they have to have permission before they could enter a home?

She half-scrambled, half-fell into the house. The lead Troll's dark, ugly face loomed at her as she slammed and locked the door. She could hear two more sets of feet hitting the porch as the first rattled the door. She glanced at the door. It was too fragile to hold them, and clearly they had no problems with entering a dwelling.

As if to prove her right, the wood splintered, and a hand shot through. Claws grabbed her shoulder, bringing another scream from the young woman's burning lungs. She drew her dagger and stabbed at the hand until it let go, but even as the monster released her and she pulled away from the door, she knew that it would not keep them at bay for long. Wood was peeling off of it as they continued to bang on it, calling out lewd remarks that made her shiver.

* * *

Piper looked up from where she was busily helping Paige pack. Who would be knocking? Paige looked at her sister and mouthed the same question. Piper shrugged.

Dawn rose and made her way slowly to the door. The sisters tensed as she cracked it open; relief washed through the trio at the sight of Coco. Dawn opened the door wider, and Coco swept into the room and pulled her into a hug. He gestured the others to come closer and drew them into the hug, as well, as he told them, "Oh, girls, I'm so happy for you all!"

Piper waited until Coco had released his tight hold on them before asking tentatively, "Won't you come with us, Coco?"

"That fine gentleman of yours was just asking me the same question, sweetheart, but no, I need to stay here for now."

"Blanche?" Dawn asked softly.

"Yeah." Coco nodded. "I know she's not much, but she took me in and embraced me when nobody else would have anything at all to do with me. She's like a sister to me."

"I understand," Piper spoke, "but if you ever change your mind . . . "

"I'll show up on your doorstep, honey, with all my things in tow, I promise." He grinned at her. "But right now, I'm just so thrilled that the three of you are finally getting out of here and getting the chance at happiness that you all deserve!" He hugged them again, then set to helping them pack. It didn't take long for the four of them to get the sisters' few things packed, but when the others went to leave the room, Piper hesitated.

"Sis?" Paige asked.

"I'll be along in a minute," Piper told her. "You three go ahead." She smiled brilliantly at them. "I'm fine. I just . . . want to say good-bye. We've spent a lot of time here."

Paige nodded, though she knew there was more to it than that. Piper had been fighting tears ever since she'd told her about Phoebe's reaction and she feared that they were about to overflow. Still she knew her sister was determined not to add to her own mixed emotions over the situation of having to leave their other sister behind and would not allow herself the luxury of tears in front of her. Paige silently ushered Coco and Dawn out of the room, glanced in at Piper who still had her back to her, closed the door, and tried to catch Cole's eye.

* * *

The storm did not hinder him as he continued to walk alone through the night. Rainwater dripped off of the wide brim of his hat, but his eyes could see for miles despite the weather conditions. He paused as he caught a familiar scent, and a slow smile spread over his evil face. "Belthazor," he murmured the first word he had spoken for days.

What a pleasant surprise! He had come after the Gypsy lad, but he would leave with two trophies for his mistress. The lad's heart accompanied with the Demon's head would please her almost as much as the taking would delight him. The wind shifted slightly to his right, but the hunter waited until his prey was almost upon him . . .

* * *

The Trolls would be in soon, and there was nothing she could do to stop them! She looked desperately around for a hiding place. She called for Doctor Richards, but all she heard coming from elsewhere in the house was the rattling of chains.

She followed the rattling sounds to a door. She reached a shaky hand toward it, hoping safety was in there, and cracked it open just in time to hear a howl coming from somewhere within the dark room. Only pitch blackness met her panicked eyes. As another howl came, she slammed the door shut.

Doctor Richards must be out helping some one. She needed to hide. The thought had barely reformed in her mind when she heard the door cave in and a slurred voice calling out. "Here, girly, girly, girly!"

"We don't want to hurt you, girly!" Odd, she thought as she moved quietly deeper into the house, that voice sounded almost feminine!

Snickering accompanied the third voice. "Yeah," he said, "we just want to eat you!"

There was the sounds of something being hit, but she didn't hesitate to find out what it was or why the third Troll was exclaiming "Ow!" over and over again. She moved stealthily further into the house, knowing she had to get away and praying that Doctor Richards would return soon and that he had some way to deal with the monsters.

The howls were rising from the room where something had been rattling chains. The Trolls were coming closer. Then she heard another set of heavy, inhuman feet bounding her way from behind, and she swallowed tightly, her eyes huge, wide, and fearful. They were going to eat her, and no one would ever know what had happened to her!

* * *

Piper waited until she'd heard the door shut and footsteps moving away. Then she reached under the mattress and pulled out a large, leather-bound book. She ran her hands carefully over the aged cover, thinking of all the generations who had gone before herself and her sisters and wondering about the trials they had had to fight to overcome. Surely none of them had gone through as much as her sisters and herself had. At least, she hoped they hadn't for their own past sakes.

The minute Piper touched the Book, Cole knew it. The value of that Book was more than Piper could ever know. Cole wished he could simply destroy it so that the war from both sides would never happen. Both sides wanted it. Neither should be able to have it for the power that was contained within was more than should ever be in any one being's hands.

He leaned his forehead against the door, willing her to feel his love and wanting her not to lose it. He couldn't force Phoebe to come. He wanted to, but it wasn't right. He knew it and could only wait until such time as either Phoebe came to them or died. He couldn't take an intervention in the case, and he knew that it was most likely breaking Piper's heart to leave her behind.

Piper opened the Book to a page she knew well: the one that depicted her family tree. Her fingertips traced the names of her sisters and her own, hesitating over Phoebe for the longest but also hovering over the name of the sister who she had never gotten to know, Prudence. She wondered what would have happened if Prudence had lived.

Would she have been any better at protecting her sisters? Would their lives have been any easier if she had been there? Would she have made their mother any prouder, kept the promises that had been made so long ago any better? Piper hung her head as tears slipped down her cheeks. She would never know.

Though she could no longer see the names clearly, her fingertips found the names of her mother and grandmother with ease. What would they think if they could see them now? A wind whispered through the room, and the pages of the Book rustled. Piper held it in her arms as the pages moved with a magical will of their own before settling on a spell for a new life. She smiled sadly; she was doing the right thing.

Of course she was! Phoebe was a grown woman; her life was hers to spend however she chose. Paige and Dawn needed her, and if any of the three of them stayed here for much longer, they would surely die or be driven insane. Then there was Cole, the most handsome, gallant, kind, giving, caring, and amazing man she had ever had the honor to know! Miracle of miracles, he was sweeping to their rescue if only they'd let him, and he might just love her!

Piper's heart swelled, though tears still glistened in her brown eyes. She moved clothes aside in her trunk and laid the Book gently within the gap. Then she withdrew a locket from her pillowcase, opened it, kissed the pictures of her mother and grandmother, and placed it with the Book. She covered it and proceeded to try to shut the trunk. It took several attempts, but finally it closed. Piper dried her eyes and headed out to greet her new life, her head held high and a smile of hope lighting her face.

* * *

There were too many scents on the wind that night and too many evils crawling about. He should return to town and see what he could find out about Hilda Spellman, who he understood had checked into Blanche's that day. He hoped the rumors were true, but he certainly could not find out out here in the middle of nowhere. Besides, Cole should be gone by now, and the thought of curling up in a warm bed definitely appealed to him.

Carl turned and felt a hand close around his throat. He tried to yelp but could not even breathe let alone squeeze out even the tiniest sound for the fist that held him by the neck. He got one look of the face of the man who held him and cringed inside for the eyes were that of a being without any soul left. Then darkness surrounded him as he was stuffed into a bag.

The hunter grinned as he slung the bag over his shoulder. He would continue after his original prey, but the Demon would come after him. He wondered briefly just what a Demon and a Gnome could have in common, but it didn't matter. Belthazor's scent was all over the Gnome. He would come, and it would be the last thing he ever did!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

There was something in the night. The storm had moved on, but still something lurked in the shadows. She could feel it in her bones and the blood that coiled in her stomach. Her fingers arched, and moonlight glistened on her long, black fingernails. Her dark eyes scanned the forest for any sign of what hid behind the trees.

The scent of wet dog assailed her nose, but what was one of those doing in Los Almas? The town's doctor was the only one she had told so far, but he would have himself kept under lock and key tonight. For the first time, Elvira wondered just how Brendan let himself out. She knew he locked himself up, but some one had to be setting him free in the mornings.

Then she heard a growl, and her mind switched to another topic. Where were Hansel, Bobby, and the others? With this beast lurking in the woods, had they survived going to help Faith and the little, red Indian child? What of Cole, the women he'd just rescued, and the mighty Salem Saberhagen, from whom she'd only parted a few minutes ago after walking, undisturbed, out of the Blanche's saloon? For some reason, the Demon was refusing to use his powers, but surely he wouldn't persist in his human persona to the point of risking the very lives he'd just saved? Or would he?

Elvira heard a twig break and whirled to face that direction. Her breath caught in her throat. Her mouth watered, and her eyes grew huge. She'd never seen anything so big in her entire life!

* * *

Bobby paced outside the teepee where Carlos kept vigilance over Trent and Trina. The twins were still too unmoving for Bobby's way of thinking, their chests barely rising and falling, but the Shaman had touched his shoulder earlier when he had walked out and spoken soothing words with a reassuring smile. Bobby wished he could understand the tribe's language and kicked himself again for not accepting Hank's offer to teach him all those years ago.

He watched the people milling about with emotions shining in his eyes. The women were gathering food while the men built a huge fire. He wasn't sure what the fire was for, but from the smiling faces and jubilant voices he heard he guessed that the tribe had complete trust in Faith's ability to return their missing child. He gazed out at them, wondering how he could have ever thought that they might scalp him and realizing that they were just another type of person.

They were less different than he was, and yet he had feared them. He had been terrified at the thought of coming into their circle, but they had welcomed him with open arms. He wondered if they would have reacted any differently if they had known that he loved a man or of the special gift that he possessed, a gift he had yet to determine fully was indeed a gift or perhaps rather a curse, but there was no way to know.

He should have listened to Hank. He always should have listened to Hank, but it was too late now. His love's sensual voice would never again caress his ears. Bobby turned to the shadows as tears welled in his eyes. He thought of his deceased partner every day, but sometimes, like tonight, he couldn't help remembering him with every thought or missing him with every breath.

He tried to shake off his grief, telling himself sternly that he could not break down here. He knew little of Indians, but he was pretty sure that their men did not cry. They prided themselves on being warriors, after all.

Batting the tears away from his eyes, he walked over, picked up the flap that served as a door on the teepee, and peered in at Carlos and the Malloys. The Mexican still sat beside them, but now he held Trent's hand in his while he prayed over them in fervent, emotional Spanish. Bobby witnessed his lips brush the other man's knuckles and let the flap fall silently closed.

He'd often suspected that Carlos loved Trent as much more than a brother. No men, to his way of thinking, could be as close as they were without there being a deeper love running between them, but it was Carlos' secret to keep. As for as any one would know, Bobby had never seen anything nor suspected a thing. He only hoped, for Carlos' and Trent's sakes, that fate would be kinder to them and their life together happier.

He paused as firelight reflected upon the head of a spear kept just outside one of the teepees. It would be so easy to end his pain, Bobby knew, but that would leave Brendan without any one to care for him. He would never do that to the boy. He turned again just as he heard approaching hoofbeats and the village broke out into cheers.

* * *

The depressed Scientist had fallen into a deep sleep of troubled nightmares. Since his transformation, his dreams were always along the same lines. Bobby found him, but yet, even though he knew that he was within the ghastly form that his body had transformed into, his love was terrified of him. He wanted nothing to do with him. He hated him, and his hatred tore at his heart.

He was a monster, and he knew it. He had faked his own death to save Bobby from the horror he had become and protect his son from the hatred of the people who would never understand. Brendan was now the only good thing he had left in a world full of hatred and fear, and as his howls shifted at the scents of the Trolls, they began to penetrate the beast's dreams.

When the woman screamed for help, his blue eyes blinked open in the darkness of the bedroom. His fur ruffled. Some one was in his home! Then he recognized her voice and heard the monsters tearing at the door. He bolted from his bed and ran on all fours toward the screams of the girl who had once been the closest thing to a daughter he'd ever had.

He leapt over the scared young woman dressed in buckskin and pushed her back, his claws slightly tearing at the sleeves of her shirt. "Flee, Prudence!" he commanded. "Run and hide! Do not reveal yourself no matter what happens!"

* * *

He watched every movement of the two-leggers from his hiding place behind the smelly donkey. His nose twitched, and he thought of attempting to move the donkey's rear end out of his face but quickly changed his mind at the way he eyed him. If he made one movement that he did not like, the man knew he would get kicked square in the face, and then there would be no more hiding.

There had to be a way out, he thought frantically, but every time he moved to leave the pen that he had swiftly ducked into earlier that evening when a group of men had followed a woman into the stables and awakened the stable's keeper, something happened. Now the big, black man who guarded the stables with a gun that was even bigger than his bulging muscles was keeping a wary watch over the entrance way. There was no way out other than pass him, and the man who was as determined to make his escape as Bishop was to guard his stables knew the mountain of a man was not about to go back to sleep any time soon.

He knew what the creatures were that had come earlier, but he could also sense that they had moved on. There was no way to tell the man that, however. He reached a hand into one of the many hidden pockets in his cloak and removed a small pebble. He checked to make sure that Bishop still sat at the entrance with his back to him, then stood up with the quick motions of a mouse shooting his head out of a hole and checking to see if the hawk had moved on. As he stood, he threw the pebble at the back of the stables. He shot back down into his hiding place, but the man he had only heard called Bishop by all his visitors that night proved to be every bit as fast as he thought he was as he whirled around and shot at the pebble.

* * *

Saliva dripped from his fangs as he gazed at the dark beauty who stood before him unafraid. The man could see her, and he knew he wanted her with every fiber of his being but could not dare to unleash the beast upon her. He kept tight reign upon himself as he took in her beauty. The wolf howled and licked his lips. He'd like nothing better than to suck the very blood from her veins.

Wolf hit himself in the head several times, his fists hitting harder each time, but to no avail as the wolf took in the woman's scent and moved closer. He nuzzled her when he reached her. There was no resemblance of any man showing in his face or body. Wolf prayed that Elvira could not figure out that it was him for he had every intention of making her his after the full moon. It had just come upon him too suddenly, and he was more afraid of what the wolf would do than he had ever been in his entire life. He howled miserably even as the wolf licked her so quickly between her breasts that he could not stop it.

Then he ran off into the night, still howling. He had to find something warm with blood. His brain cells cried out for blood, and he had to have it soon or he might do something that Wolf could not live with. As far as he knew, he had never harmed a human, but there was always a chance.

He had not made it to his home so that he could chain himself, and now he ran freely through the night. The man prayed that no innocent would come into his clutches even as he slipped further and further out of his brain and the wolf took complete control, transforming him into the monster that Werewolves are sometimes known to be on full moon nights.

* * *

It did not seem to take very long at all for them to reach the village. As soon as the horse came to a stop, Tanner helped Dawson to dismount. "Thanks," Dawson told him and looked around to spot Faith. He was very proud of her and couldn't wait to show her.

He wondered if they'd spend the entire night here and just how wild the Indians would get. He could not see her, but he knew she was there. The Indians were clustered all around her, still hollering and patting her on the back. He felt very lucky to know this woman and knew that she had accomplished something that no one else would have dared to even try.

He moved closer, waiting until it would be his turn to be with her again, observing everything, and taking mental notes. He didn't know where his notebook and pencil were at the time, but he knew he'd run across them or buy another set in time. He wanted to be able to record everything in detail.

Surrounded by Indians, Faith was in her second natural element. She beamed at the praise they heaped upon her, but then she noticed a few of the women beginning to steal looks at Dawson. "*He's mine,*" she was quick to tell them.

"*For how long?*" one asked only to receive an elbow in her side from her sister.

"*You know Faith uses them until she's done with them!*"

"*But she always gets her fill quickly,*" another one put in, "*and he is yummy!*"

Some of the men were beginning to grow irritated now, and Faith was glad when she heard Tonto coming in. Most of the tribe members left her side as quickly as they had come to go welcome her brother, but a few women remained to gaze at Dawson.

Dawson gazed back just as steadily at them, hoping that they weren't going to lay a hand on them. He thought they were lovely, but he only wanted Faith and didn't want her to have to kill any of them.

"*His hair,*" one woman whispered to the others behind her hand. "*It shines like the sun!*" She smiled nervously at the white man.

"*Look at his shoulders,*" another commented. "*They are so very different from our men.*"

"*Yes,*" Faith quipped, "*nowhere near as big.*"

"*Do you tire of him already?*" the first asked hopefully.

"*Nope,*" Faith promptly answered. She gave a mischievous grin before hooking her fingers around Dawson's collar. She promptly yanked him into the nearest teepee. She didn't know who had set hers up so close to the entrance of the village but was glad they had.

Jack took in the surroundings as they came into the village. He counted the teepees. There were twenty of them which meant twenty families, a small tribe. For a moment, he felt nostalgic as though he was coming home to his own people, but no, these were his love's people.

He wondered how they would take to him. Would they like him, or would they disapprove? He wished he could speak their language. He kissed the back of Hansel's neck before sliding off the horse. He did not move closer to the group but waited for Hansel to dismount.

He wanted to become part of Hansel's family and knew that Hansel would introduce him again to the whole tribe. He wished he had even one word of greeting to give them instead of having to smile like an idiot. "What can I tell them? Will you teach me their language?" He smiled up at Hansel.

"I will teach you, *sweet one*," Hansel replied as he slid smoothly off of Tonto, "anything you wish to learn." He started to move his hand through the air and solemnly call a greeting to the family he had been away from far too long when he was suddenly swamped by arms reaching out to hug him. Questions bombarded him left and right, and he had even less time to answer them than he did to return the hugs.

* * *

"What's this?" a voice questioned, and he turned his flashing eyes onto the first Troll. "A great, big pussy cat?" He laughed; the other two Trolls snickered behind him.

He ignored their laughter and charged. How dare these true monsters chase his goddaughter for their dinner and then break into his home! He whipped a massive arm out at them, knocking all three against the wall.

"That wasn't very nice," the one who had been in the lead groaned.

"No," he replied, "it was not, but then it was not at all nice for you to enter my home uninvited. Nor was it nice for you to scare a child witless."

"We didn't mean to scare her," the female attempted to reason.

"Yeah," the darkest of the three spoke. "We only wanted to eat her!"

"Shuddup!" the female screeched.

"I shall give you one chance to flee."

"What? Run from a big kitty cat? Dad would eat us for breakfast then!"

"Perhaps you would be better off as breakfast," he offered, "than as dinner. I am afraid I lack the proper seasoning for Troll."

As he had been talking, they had been flipping their fingers through the air and counting to three. When the leader held up a fourth finger, they charged. The beast plowed his fists into the faces of the first two, but the female slipped pass him.

She looked over her shoulder and considered her options. She could continue after the girl who she knew would taste delicious or attempt to fight this bulky, hairy man with her brothers for a meal that would taste nowhere near as fine. She opened the door to the howling creature and slipped inside, calling out, "Here, girly, girly, girly," as she went.

* * *

While Bishop had been watching the front entrance, the bloody buggers had snuck around to the back and were now getting in on him even as he sat, watching the doors! He let both barrels of his gun go and then raced toward the back to see if he had done anything. Nothing was there, and he breathed a very disappointed sigh. He wanted to get his hands on them, and the sooner, the better! He knew that his charges would not be safe until he had gotten rid of the menaces.

He noticed that Donkey was staring balefully at him and that he seemed to be upset about something. He moved closer to the stall. Smudges of black were all over the hay. Bishop wondered what damn animal had gotten in now and caused crap all over the place. He cursed loudly as he reached for the pitchfork and mucked the offending hay from the stall. He wondered if the buggers had crawled in there and crapped before they had left.

Bishop returned to his bale of hay and scratched his head thoughtfully. He needed to get some help. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't watch the front door and the gaping hole in the back wall he'd just made at the same time. "WHAT'S A MAN TO DO?" he asked the startled donkey. "I DON'T HAVE EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD!"

Donkey had had just about enough of the crap that had been going on. He almost blew his disguise as he looked disdainfully at Bishop. He had to bite his tongue to keep still. Idiot humans! They were always causing more trouble!

He had been very surprised when the other dark-skinned man had entered his stall only to find out that he wasn't dark like Bishop but had some kind of smelly stuff all over himself. He had left the smell behind in his stall despite that Bishop had mucked it out. Donkey wanted a new stall. He knew there was a really clean one that smelled sweet right across the aisle from where he was.

While Bishop was mourning his fate, Donkey lifted the latch with his teeth and slid out of his stall. He almost tiptoed into the other one. He turned around and shut the door quickly. He hoped that this one would be harder for any one to get into and he might enjoy some food in peace.

He gave one glance back out before he began to munch of the fresh, moist hay and saw the dark-looking creature at the door. He knew Bishop didn't know he was there. He was too busy lamenting his fate.

Donkey shook his head and continued to munch, watching the creature that he knew was more than a man. What he had no idea for he knew it couldn't be what he smelled. One of the things he hated worse than anything else in life was the ants that got into his mash every now and then. They were crunchy but stung like Hell when he accidentally bite one and didn't kill it. That was exactly what that two-legger smelled like, and he had never met the like before.

The man had frozen with one hand on the door when Bishop had turned away from the donkey's stall and enclosed on the entrance again. He had been so close that a scream of rage built within his chest. He had waited to make his move for hours, but what good had it done him? He would surely be seen now! Instead of spying him, however, the big man had sank down upon his hay and rested his head on his fist.

The smaller man frowned as he watched him. He'd always hated to see any one who he didn't know for a fact deserved hardship pout, and the muscular African was no exception. Sweat glistened on his muscles, but a frown pulled down his face. He knew he could make that frown disappear. He could bring the man more joy than he'd ever felt before in his life, but he wasn't attracted to him, not really. He just felt sorry for him.

And he had to get out of here, he reminded himself yet again. It wouldn't do to be found out by Bishop or any one else. Now that the storm had passed, he had to get out and get home with his profits of the night.

Yet if he moved a muscle, Bishop would probably blow his head clean off of his shoulders. He watched him frozen in time, his heart beating wildly and his head itching. If he made even the slightest of sounds, it would most likely be the last thing he ever did.

He had watched as the donkey had quickly crossed over the aisle behind Bishop. He was certain there was more to that animal than met the eye, but he did not know what other than that he wasn't like him. If only there was some way to get Bishop to turn around, to look anywhere else if only for a scant moment . . .

He began to hum a tone so soft that a human's ears would never hear it. They would come, he knew. His friends always came when he needed them. They would come; he just needed to tell them what to do.

* * *

"Wait!" Elvira had called, but the wolf had not heard her. Now she picked her way carefully through the forest, wondering, even as she tracked after him, why she was doing so. Her trembling body was quick to remind her of her reasoning, but still her mind argued vehemently. She knew she was crazy, but tracking a Werewolf with no weapon save her own claws and fangs was beyond loco. Doing so because she wanted more of what his swift lick and nuzzling had sent coursing through her body was the worst kind of insanity!

Did she have a death wish? Perhaps, she mused silently as she kept tracking the huge beast, and then maybe all she wanted was to feel something that was real, passionate, and wild again. What would it matter if her past caught up to a monster? Not a thing in the world. At last there was some one who made her womanhood scream with wanton, fiery passion and who was as guiltfree as sipping a blood tequila before she went on!

Her entire life had become a stage, the Vampiress thought. She was always playing one role or another. When was the last time she had actually let herself go and done exactly as she wanted without thought of any possible repercussions? The years were so many that she could not even find a definite number, but the answer was simple: far too long.

She walked out into a clearing and saw the wolf standing at the other edge. She gave the same whistle that other women would when calling a dog, and when he turned to face her, she smiled with her fangs revealed and sparkling. "You left too soon," she spoke, though not expecting him to understand her, as she ran a fingernail across the same space of flesh between her taut, full breasts that he had licked mere moments ago. "You didn't finish what you started," she teased.

Then she did the one thing she knew the beast would understand. She pushed the sleeves of her black, silk dress over her arms and let the slip of cloth slide down her body. The full moon bathed her naked body in its light, and she gestured with her hands for the wolf to come.

* * *

Dawson barely had time to breathe before Faith was pulling his clothes off. He figured her favorite state of affairs was to be naked, and he was all for it. He didn't know why she wanted him, but he was thankful for it. He began to kiss her and run his hands down her fine, firm body.

He wondered what the Indian women had been saying about him that had made Faith grab him and run to the teepee. Surely they weren't attracted to him? It didn't matter who was attracted to him, Dawson thought, for the only woman he ever wanted in his bed was Faith.

Did he dare pop the question? He never wanted to lose her, and he figured if he spoke too soon, he stood a good chance of losing her. If he didn't speak soon enough, he still stood a good chance of losing her. Maybe he should talk to Hansel about it? was his last coherent thought.

He suddenly found himself laying on his back with Faith on top of him. How the girl had the energy after climbing that mountain he didn't dare ask! He gave her as good as she was giving him but wished he had even more. Did the Indians have some kind of drink that he could take that would help him match her? {Again}, he thought, {I'll have to ask Hansel.}

His hands gripped her buttocks and pulled her closer to him. He began to kiss her even deeper, praying that the night would never end for she would surely get a good look at him in the daylight and not want him. He prayed that time would never come.

Faith breathed rapidly as she straddled Dawson, the tip of his manhood teasing her womanhood. She had no time to make things easy for him this time for she'd needed him to fill her since she had made that final jump off of the mountain. Her hands splayed over his chest, her fingernails digging slightly into his skin, as she lowered her chest over his. She sat down on him, taking his full length in a single, swift move, and kissed him a moment after his gasp had had time to reverberate around the teepee. Her tongue plunged into his mouth as his loving eased her burn.

He was lost in this amazing woman. He continued to kiss her as they went on their magical ride together, his hands never ceased rubbing and stroking her skin that was smooth and satiny despite the fact that she lived such a rough life. He never, for one moment, could believe that she loved him, but at least, for now, she was interested enough in him to love him sexually.

The once-virgin boy now felt like he was a man, and this woman had made him a man. What she would do to him on the morrow, he didn't want to think about it. It would be an adventure, something his life had been from the very first second he had met her, and he knew that as long as she wanted him in her world, he was in Heaven. He gave himself up to the magic of their ride.

* * *

Prue was in shock. Not only had the creatures chased her this far, but now she had heard a ghost speak! The voice from the blue, furry creature was the voice of her late father, or at least the man who she had once thought of as her father. He had been gone many years.

Perhaps this spirit had come back to help her, to rescue her? She had nowhere to run. She needed the medicine that would heal her mother and the rest of their people. Where could Doctor Richards be in all this mess? Had he been eaten by the Trolls?

When the blue creature had pushed her, she had fallen to her knees and crawled rapidly into the darkness of the gaping hole. It turned out to be some one's bedroom, and she slid under the bed and hid there, shivering, shaking, crying, and praying for deliverance. She could hear a horrible battle outside but feared to return lest she be included in the massacre.

* * *

Jack felt himself moved further and further away from Hansel as Hansel's family greeted and welcomed him so warmly. He stood away and watched as even the very old people of the tribe came forward to greet him. He wondered how Hansel had forced himself to go back to being in the white man's world after having the loving members of the family that made him ache for his that would never be again.

His clan had been very close. His grandmother had been the leader, and yet every member of the clan had known that they were loved and cared for by every one else in the clan. They had truly been one big, happy family. How he missed that!

He was happy for Hansel and longed to be part of it. Maybe one day? he told himself but knew that one day would never come for he knew the hunter was coming. He could feel it in the wind.

He didn't know where Willow had gotten to, but he was going to tell Hansel about Willow when they had time alone. He kept saying he was going to tell him, but he kept putting it off. He didn't want their time to end, but he knew it was going to.

He looked up into the moon as he heard howls in the distance. He figured it was a pack of wolves crying out their lonely existence, and he wanted to cry out to the moon as well. How unfair this life was! How unfair that he should be given love in one beautiful, blinding moment and know that it would be lost in the next second! Emotions played over his face that he was not even aware of, but a light shone as well, the light of love as he looked at Hansel and wished for all the tomorrows that he knew would never be.

An Indian brave approached Jack. "You come with me," he spoke to him. Jack gave him a strange look as he wondered what was happening. "Me Sly Fox. Speak English. You come with me," he repeated.

Giving Hansel one more longing look and noticing that he was being dragged off with a group of women gaggling about him, Jack followed Sly Fox, wondering what was in store for him. It seemed that the Indian women were in charge of the village while the braves did their best to hide out.

Sly Fox stopped so quickly that Jack almost ran into him. "Sittum down," he said, pointing toward the fire. "Hungry?" Jack nodded. Sly Fox went toward the fire where Jack could see a huge pot of something bubbling. He wondered what kind of food was cooking in there and if he could stand to eat it without throwing it up.

Sly Fox brought back a bowl with something that looked like bread and gave it to Jack. "Eat." Jack, who was now sitting on a log in front of the fire, began to eat. Whatever it was, it tasted good, and he didn't ask. "Where Hansel go?"

"Who?" Sly Fox sounded almost like a hoot owl.

Jack remembered that Hansel had told him his name was Golden Bear. "Where Golden Bear go?"

"Women get 'im ready," Sly Fox told him.

"For what?" Jack questioned.

Sly Fox looked back at him with a dumb look and shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know what the women were so excited about. He had not heard the talk. "Dance," he suddenly said with a grin that resembled his namesake.

"Dance?" Jack queried.

"Dance." Sly Fox nodded. He went, got a bowl of food, and sat down as well. "Eat now. Dance later."

Jack figured all he could do was sit and watch. Sooner or later, the dance would be revealed, but he sure wished Hansel would hurry and come back. He didn't like being out with men who he could barely talk to and not having any idea what they were talking about. Sly Fox wasn't much help at all. Jack tried to be patient but feared that Golden Bear had forgotten all about him.

* * *

Donkey heard the tune, and his ears perked forward, his nose twitching slightly. Why did that music sound like those pesky little buggers that he hated so much? He had to get Bishop's attention. They were coming. He could hear them scampering, and he knew he'd rather see mice.

Why didn't the man shut up before they did come? He turned around and took another mouthful while he thought, {I should do something, but what? These humans will drive me insane!}

A pail was sitting on the surface next to him. It should have had water in it, but it was empty. He picked it up and hit at the railing. It made a clanking sound just loud enough to draw Bishop's attention.

Bishop looked up. Where was that coming from? Was he going crazy? Perhaps, but he knew he had to get up and see where that was coming from. Bang! Bang! Clank! Clank! came from just inside one of the stalls. No one was supposed to be in that one, yet the noise was definitely coming from inside. He snatched the door open.

"WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN THERE, DONKEY?! COME OUT OF THERE! GET TO YOUR OWN STALL!" He had to grab and push Donkey back as Donkey began to try to climb him.

"What is the matter with you?" He petted the donkey and tried to put him back in his own stall. Maybe an extra thing of bran would make him feel better. Bishop walked around to the feed bin and pulled out a cup.

Returning it to Donkey, he told him to eat up and quit getting so jittery. He patted him on the head again. "Calm down, fella. It's no good for both of us being worked up."

He had watched as Bishop had maneuvered around the stables, putting the donkey in his own stall and giving him an extra treat. He had watched as they had come, sneaking in from all angles unnoticed and even climbing up the big African's legs. He meant him no harm, but as the man had constantly glanced back at both the front door and the gaping hole he had made in the back wall, he had not had a chance to escape safely. Soon he would. All he had to do was wait.

* * *

He ran like the wind, howling in joy. She wanted him! She was his mate! He felt it deep within.

The man was no longer in control, but the wolf was. He wanted this woman and not in the way the man feared. He could hardly wait to join with her. He licked her again.

He had not the foggiest idea of how to mate, but his instincts were driving him to rip the clothing from her body where it pooled around her feet. He whined helplessly, wanting her to know. He didn't know how to do it, but he damn sure wanted to do it! He whined pitifully and trembled, waiting for her next touch.

She smiled at his uncertainty, the last of her fears being chased away by the trembling she felt radiating off of him. She placed one hand on his massive, furry chest and petted him. Her other hand lifted to his face. It was a face only a mother could love, but she had not come after him because of his face. She had come after him because of how his brief touches had made her feel and the massive, furry sword that swelled between his legs.

Her hands touched him gently. Even her fingernails seemed soft as they drew along the side of his muzzle. She didn't want to frighten him away, and now thought that, despite everything she'd always heard about Werewolves, that might actually be a possibility. She stepped out of her dress, leaving it and her black high heels behind, and stood against his body. His fur pressed against her, sending little thrills shooting through her body. She leaned up, her core brushing against his manhood, and kissed the tip of his nose.

He stood trembling while she was petting and stroking him. He wanted to be rough, but he also wanted to mate with her. He pushed her down to the earth and stood over her for a moment, looking down at her, before he joined her. He straddled her, and his shaft began poking uncertainly but eagerly at her. He grunted in frustration, not knowing where to put it.

Elvira kicked her legs up, wrapped them around his furry quarters, and drew him down. A cry broke from her black lips as she impaled herself upon his steed and relief coursed through her body. It had indeed been far, far too long! Her fingernails dug into his fur.

He plunged again and again and again. She took all of him. Thrills rushed through the wolf. He pointed his muzzle toward the moon and howled as she held on tightly to him and he rode her, marking her forever as his.

Elvira's scream of pleasure echoed through the forest, sending animals scurrying for safety. Her legs remained wrapped around his as she moved up and down on his sword. Her screams melded with his howls to make an enchanting, bizarre kind of music as they rode the waves of passion together.

* * *

Bishop slapped angrily at his legs. Had the donkey known that these bastard ants were coming? They seemed to be everywhere! Where had they been all this time? They were coming in droves, and he was actively slapping them off of himself to the point that he dropped his gun.

He bellowed and reached out, desperately trying to grab it. What if they should come now when he was having to fight yet another enemy? He had to find something to kill these damn ants with! His hand reached toward his gun, but as fast as he reached for it, the gun moved away! It was fleeing from him, and he set chase, yelling, "STOP! STOP! DON'T TAKE MY GUN!" But it was in vain as they raced for the hole he had made in the back with him chasing right behind them.

He couldn't help it. The astonished and anguished look on the man's face moved him. Laughter bubbled in his chest. A grin burst upon his face. His humming grew louder until it could be heard by humans' ears and picked up rhythm. Then he began to sing and wriggle in the movements of a wild dance, "Big B! Big B! Big B!"

The ants were now calling his name! "GO AWAY!" he bellowed. "I DON'T WANT TO KNOW! LEAVE ME ALONE, AND GIVE ME BACK MY GUN!" The louder they called his name, the slower he ran for he surely did not want them to catch him. He just wanted his gun back; it was, after all, his favorite weapon.

The ants were singing his name even louder and running as fast as their little legs could carry them bearing his gun still further away from him. "Big B, Big B!" they sang. How could they know his name? Then he heard another noise humming at the front door. He turned and looked fearfully in that direction only to see an imp dancing around and humming.

He was covered in soot and ashes to the point that he seemed to be a strange mixture of black and white and looking straight at him. Fear filled his heart! Why were all the Demons coming to his stables? What wrong had he ever done to deserve this? Why wouldn't Sheriff Cassidy return now and catch this ant man? Bishop knew that he'd never believe this tale!

The man who had called the ants slung himself against a post in the entrance, laughing heartily. His dark eyes danced in his darker face as he watched the African slow his pace. He looked at the puzzled donkey, who was watching him with huge eyes, and winked. "Let that be a lesson to you, Donkey," he told him. "Never mess with an ant." Then he was gone, fleeing into the night and laughing like a fairy, and when he was safe, the ants suddenly dispersed from around Bishop's gun, leaving the weapon still upon the hard, wet ground.

Bishop was relieved to see the man run out the door. Turning back to the ants, he found they were gone, leaving his gun behind. He grabbed it and hugged it tightly to his chest, praying they would never return . . . He'd not be chasing that Demon to Hell! He was gone on his own accord and, Bishop hoped, never more to return.

* * *

He looked over his shoulder to see where the female Troll had gone, and that was his mistake. A whistle brought his head turning back around, and both Trolls hit him as one. The first struck his face while the second tackled his legs, bringing him down to the floor. He rolled underneath their combined weight and let loose a roar when the second one sank his yellowed teeth into his fuzzy knee. Quickly he threw both Trolls off, jumped to his feet, and bounded into the cellar.

The female Troll, better known as Blabberwort, began to wonder if perhaps she should have waited for her brothers to accompany her as she descended into the darkness. She did not smell the girl in this room, but instead the scent of wolf met her nose. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stood and looked around. It did not take her long before she saw the snarling, howling Werewolf.

He tore at his chains, and she felt moved. Even as she thought that her last meal must be disagreeing with her, she considered that no creature should be chained. She stepped closer to the Werewolf and eyed the chains and the writhing animal contained within them. If she released him, what would he do? Would he follow her? Could she lead him back to their mistress?

Her brother, Burly, was convinced that their father was their greatest worry, but she knew better. Their dad was dead. He could no more harm them than he could help them. They had only one woman to thank for their survival since his death, and it would do well to please her. Perhaps it would even bring a promotion so that she would not have to continue to hunt the Gypsy with her brothers. Maybe she could be a Princess to the Queen or at least her snake's caretaker. She didn't care what she gave her as long as it was something that would allow her to eat more often when she was hungry.

She would like a Werewolf, Blabberwort knew. She was always going on about how one had been stolen from her when he was a boy. In fact, that was why she wanted the Gypsy so badly. Yes, their mistress would be very pleased with a Werewolf. She was just beginning to close the distance between herself and the snarling wolf when the man who had stopped them from getting the girl opened the door, slid down the railing, and hurtled on top of her.

Blabberwort went down beneath the blue man's weight, but her claws struck out, slicing the chains in two. As the chains fell, the Werewolf moved forward, and Beast looked up, his face startled and fearful. "Brendan," he spoke, "it's me."

But the wolf was scared. He did not know what any of these creatures were, but he smelled blood on the furless ones. He also knew that he was free whereas he had been chained for far too long. He lashed out, his claws tearing and teeth gnashing . . .

**To Be Continued . . . **


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Faith rolled over onto her side as she heard a soft snore. She propped up on an elbow, hid the grimace that threatened to pass over her face at its soreness, and gazed down at Dawson. She ran a hand over his bare chest as she wondered about him.

Where had he come from? Why had he chosen to be a reporter? Why had he not ran away from her in fear after their first wild ride? No man could handle her, she knew that, so why did he stay? He was a white man. He had to want something. Did he only want her for the juicy story he thought her life was?

She gazed at his thick, blonde hair as the words the squaws had spoken just a little while earlier resounded in her ears. Dawson was cute and different, but he was a white man. Why had she even taken him a second time? Besides being perhaps the most handsome man she'd ever set eyes upon, his innocence appealed to her.

She had never known another innocent white man, besides her brother whose innocence had been destroyed long ago. She shook her head to shake away the memories of that night. Was Dawson really as innocent as he seemed? Was it even possible for a grown man to be so innocent, especially a white man? It went against everything she believed, but yet here she was, running her hands over his chest as though a part of her wished to awaken him and have another taste of his steed.

And if he was that innocent, did she really have any right to be with him? She knew that her life would surely spoil him if he stayed in it too long. Perhaps he already had. No, she hadn't gotten into anything bad yet, but she would. Trouble always found her. Hell, trouble was her middle name, and normally she'd have it no other way. Yet she couldn't help but to wonder if she had any right to take Dawson along with her for the journey for it would as surely destroy his innocence as Hansel's had been destroyed so long ago.

She rolled to her feet and hesitated only a moment before pulling on a pair of pants and a fringed shirt. Although she often went naked among them, she didn't want to deal with exciting the warriors tonight. Besides, Hansel and Vin were out there too, and she knew neither man wanted to see a naked woman. She silently pulled on her boots and tucked a couple of knives into them.

She hoped Hansel was busy with his Gypsy as she slipped out of her teepee. Tornado was standing beside the doorway, and he whickered softly. She ran her hands over his face and neck and kissed his nose reassuringly. She unhooked her gun belt from around his neck, wrapped it around her slender waist, and buckled it securely.

As she scratched her horse's ears, she turned back to look around her at the village and noticed that the men were beginning to pass the peace pipe around. That was exactly what she needed tonight. She walked over, noticed the Gypsy, grinned at the thought of lightening her mood with a little fun, and plopped down beside him. Of all the women in the village, she was the only one who had earned the right to smoke like the men, and the brave beside her did not hesitate to pass her the pipe.

Faith inhaled and let herself enjoy. She took several blows while idly listening to the men talk. There would be two dances tonight, first to celebrate the safe return of Little Wild Cat and her brother, Golden Bear, and then to ask the Gods for their help on the two white people whose names they were not even certain of. As she heard them debate whether the man's name was Trent, Wrent, Wren, or Rent, she wondered if Golden Bear would stay this time. Once upon a time, they had been inseparable, but that had been so long ago . . .

Sly Fox's impatient voice broke through Faith's reverie just as her body was beginning to go limp and her thoughts to ease into a pleasant nothingness. She smiled and held the pipe out to Jack. "Your turn, Gypsy boy."

* * *

Dawson had been deep in sleep when he had felt her hands slide gently over his chest. He had pretended to sleep, not giving himself away as he wanted to see what his beautiful wild cat was about. He had not meant to fall asleep, but despite trying his best to remain awake, he had.

He could not remember ever having had such a long day in his entire life. He had been awake for most of the last forty-eight hours. So much had happened in that time that he could scarce take it all in and if someone else had told him of it and it had not actually happened to him, he would have been hard pressed to believe it. He wanted to write it all down in his journal but had no idea where he had lost it. His pencil was gone too. It didn't matter to him except that he wanted to remember it and how he had felt.

He was afraid that he would wake and find that it had all been a dream. He didn't want to wake up if it was. He wanted to keep on dreaming that there was a chance, no matter how slim, that she could love him maybe just a little bit.

He had been about to reach out and touch her when she had quickly gotten to her feet, dressed, and left. He lay there another moment, delighting in the warm place she had left behind, burying his nose deep into her heavenly scent, and remembering . . .

* * *

Jack had been relieved when Faith had joined the slowly gathering members of the tribe, who had been slipping next to the fire, eating, talking, and smoking. When she handed him the pipe, he gazed into her eyes. Handling it carefully, he touched his lips to the end and took a small puff. He hoped that it was not going to make him crazy. He never smoked but knew he had to or lose face. This was something he was not prepared to do, but he would do all that he could to make his Golden Bear's family accept and hopefully like him even if it made him sick.

He coughed rather heavily for a moment, then took another puff before passing it on. It was strong stuff, he thought, but the others were used to it. It made him a bit dizzy and sick to his stomach. His coughing had made tears come to his eyes.

By the third pass, he no longer coughed but felt as though he was about to take off and fly! The drumbeats began soft and slow, but the tempo was in his brain. He swayed to the music, wondering where his beloved Honey Bear had gone and hoping that he would return soon as the drumbeats increased in his blood, calling to him like a long lost lover.

As Jack had taken his third puff and no coughing had followed, Faith had slapped him on the back. She never realized that her slap was more of a pound and grinned when Jack slipped a little bit on his log. The beats of the drums were picking up, and she moved her feet against the ground in rhythm to the song. When the chanting began, she joined in, her smooth, feminine voice making a compelling accompaniment to the louder, stronger voices of the warriors. Then the dancers began running up to the fire and swooping around it in ceremonial circles.

Their backs were to them, but Faith knew her brother the moment he showed up. She grinned and swayed just a little as she took another puff on the peace pipe. Maybe he was going to stay this time, after all! She passed it to Jack and watched, with mischief lighting her eyes, for his reaction as the dancers flipped around.

Jack knew that Faith had not meant to hit him so hard, and he nodded and smiled gratefully back at her as he barely managed to stay seated on the log. The music grew louder and as the voices chimed in, his mind whirled back to his people, now dead and gone. How they would have reveled in this wondrous music! They would have joined in. They would have danced in the soul-felt rejoicings.

His own feet began to tap in time. How he longed to dance! If Hansel would only show up, he'd dance with him! His mind wandered for a minute, lost, . . . free falling . . . only to be snatched back to the reality that some one was gazing at him intently!

Hansel's heart beat in perfect rhythm to the drums, but still fear made his skin break out into a cold sweat. He would never have dared to have done this for Derek for he knew doing so would only make him hate him all the more and punish him, but yet it was something he loved doing. He wore the eagle feathers proudly and boldly called his parts of the ancient song at the top of his lungs. Then he whirled around, flapping his feathers and shaking his body, and caught Jack's gaze. Suddenly his heart was in his throat, and he found himself praying that he had not made a mistake. He did not think he could bare to see repulsion in his hero's beautiful and enchanting dark orbs.

Jack's mouth fell open in shocked surprise as his dazed mind took in the dancer in eagle feathers! It was Hansel, looking like a bronzed God and gazing so longingly at him that Jack stiffened harder then ever before! His mouth watered at the succulent feast before him, and all he could think was how much he wanted that Eagle to swoop down upon him and carry him away into the sky!

He shook himself mentally and blamed the pipe. His brain kept telling him that the Eagle was his own sweet Hansel, but never in a million years, could he believe that the golden God was the same being. The fire seemed to leap ever higher, and for a moment, he thought he was in the fire and that it was consuming him. He trembled like a leaf in the eye of a hurricane. He did not realize that he was standing, looking at the being who looked at him and wanting to be devoured in the fire with him so that they could be entwined for eternity. He breathed his love's name, and the roaring of the people passed over him like the wind in the night.....

* * *

Dawson had barely made it out of the tepee when the music had started. When he saw the barely-clad dancers he figured it was some kind of mating ritual. He drew closer to the ones who were sitting as he could see Faith in their midst. He hoped she would not be angry at him for having fallen asleep and that none of the Indians would dance for his Faith because he knew he couldn't dance well enough to draw her attention back to him.

He sat down close to her and was about to say something to her when the dancers turned and he recognized one as being her brother. His appearance amazed Dawson so much that he closed his mouth without saying one word. The play between the Gypsy and the dancing Indian radiated such fire that he felt himself coming to life again and reached out blindly for Faith . . .

Faith almost jumped when Dawson laid his hand upon hers. She had not expected him to awaken, but it was not fear that shot her heart up toward her throat. It was surprise, surprise at a touch as gentle and light as a feather. Her eyes left the dance to look questioningly into his as she wondered again about his sweet innocence.

Dawson smiled at his beautiful Faith even as he boldly pressed his lips to the palm of the hand he held. He nibbled gently at its sweetness with his teeth. Was it the music that reverberated through his head as though he were the instrument and she the player? He wanted her so much that he thought he would explode with the need thereof!

* * *

Hansel swayed, and the feathers rustled on his arms as he gestured beguilingly to his love. Then he shot his arms up and whooped again as the dancers turned round. He shook the feathers that ran across his arms and down his back. The only other clothing he wore was a breechcloth that also shook in time to the music.

He turned back around, still moving in the ancient rhythms of the dance, and found Jack only an arm's length away. His widened, blue eyes met his sweet Gypsy's dark orbs, and he felt himself swimming in them. The fire reflected in Jack's eyes, and Hansel thrilled at knowing that the true fire he saw therein was lit only for him. Never had a man moved him so strongly with one look, and the thought that he hoped that no one looked too close at his breechcloth whispered through his mind.

Jack could not tear his eyes away from the delicious golden God who danced and swayed in front of him. He could not believe the feelings that ran through him! He wanted to take a flying leap and land upon the steed he could tell that was beneath the scant breechcloth, one that he knew that was rearing for him as well!

Then he was gone to the music and the magic of the night again, the magic that Jack had reawakened in his blood. His worries were swept away with the wind, and he danced, forgetting every one and thing else but the Gypsy who had saved him from more than Hansel dared to tell him. Words as old as his people believed time to be poured from his lips, but his eyes stayed strained on Jack. He ached to reach out and pull him close, and then, with the true cause of the dance gone from his mind, he did just that.

Jack leaned forward just as Hansel whirled and grasped him, pulling him into the dance. He moaned as he brushed up against his stallion so full and strong, wanting him. The need washed over him, his ears ringing; his heart pounding; his blood racing, threatening to tear his body apart! If it took much longer . . . "Fly me away from here, my Golden Eagle, to a place where you and I can be alone where I can worship you with my body and sear you with my love!" Jack leaned even closer and nibbled Hansel's ear as he felt himself tremble with the needs he invoked in him. {Why does Hansel intrigue me so?} he wondered. {Why is it that I want him so much that I would even take him now in the sight of others?} If only . . . ! There had to be, a private place, somewhere and soon!

* * *

Dawson's tenderness stirred Faith more than any wild embrace ever had. A fire spread from where his teeth lightly nibbled her palm throughout her entire body, and she refused to admit that he was making her tremble. She turned her hand, grasping his, and pulled him to her. Her mouth slammed over his, and her tongue thrust inside. She was used to the wild side of passion and refused to admit that his tenderness shook her to her very core.

Cheers went up from most of the Indians. There were a few who were disturbed by the change in the ritual dance, but most were simply glad to have their Hansel back and recognized that his new lover was partly responsible for his return. Had their boy still been with the white man known as Derek whom they all hated, he would still be missing from their family. Whistles and animal calls sprang out amongst the applause, and Faith pulled away from Dawson just enough to see her brother looking a tad sheepish.

At first, Hansel had been lost in the delicious thrills that Jack sent racing throughout his body, heart, and soul, but as the cheering voices of his brothers went up all around them, he became aware once more of their surroundings. His smile was so bold and bright that only his sister could tell how nervous he truly was. "TAKE MY TEEPEE!" she called to him, grinning. "MAKE ME PROUD!"

Her gaze immediately returned to Dawson, and her grin grew mischievous. "We're going for a ride," she told him just before the Indian sitting next to him could offer him the peace pipe. She jumped to her feet and raced toward Tornado, pulling Dawson behind her.

Hansel leaned forward and kissed Jack as he shimmied against his body. His hands moved down his back, caressing him as he went before lightly squeezing his rear end. He spread his arms wide, flapped once more, and whooped. Then, with the other warriors still cheering him on, he grabbed Jack's hand and ran for Faith's teepee.

Vin grinned as he watched the play between the lovers. He was glad that the Indians had had both of their lost sons returned and that whatever had happened to the girl since he'd last seen her had not dampened Faith's spirits any. He took a sip of his drink, and his eyes darkened as he looked at them running off to enjoy each other in private. He wished that he could be so open about his own love but knew that was impossible for Chris would never allow it.

Bobby had watched the dance and noticed the peace pipe being passed around. He had seen how whatever was in that pipe seemed to loosen up all those who smoked it. His beloved Hank had been in his thoughts all that day and night, and his heart ached to see Hansel and Faith running off with their lovers. As memories of the times he had chased after Hank or raced away from the view of the public to make sweet love to him in hiding played through his mind, he left the shadows of the teepee that held Carlos, Trent, and Trina and walked over to join the Indians.

Vin had noticed Bobby and sensed his sadness. He gestured with a hand for him to sit and, when the peace pipe came around again, offered it to him after having his smoke. Bobby did not hesitate to take the pipe or raise it to his lips, but after one smoke, he doubled over coughing. Vin beat his back as Bobby passed the pipe on with a trembling hand.

"Wh-What's in that thing?" Bobby gasped when his lungs had finally ebbed their burning.

"Kinnic kinnick," Vin replied with a smile. "It'll help ya forget your worries."

Bobby doubted anything could help him forget his heartache and knew it would be impossible to ever forget his beloved Hank. He didn't want to forget really; he just wished the pain could stop hurting so terribly much. It would be so much easier to take his own life, but he couldn't. Brendan was waiting for him in the morning. The lad needed him, and he had always promised Hank that he would take care of him if anything ever happened to him. He would keep his promise. As long as Brendan needed him, he would suffer existence, but one day the lad would be a man, finally capable of taking care of himself. When that day came, Bobby swore, and he was no longer needed, he would find freedom and peace, and it would last far longer than any smoke ever could. For now, however, he waited for the pipe to come back around and hoped that, for just this one time, he could find a little bit of peace.

* * *

Jack held tightly to Hansel's hand. In the dark outside the fire, he could not see his hand before his face let alone where his feet trod. At the speed that Hansel was moving, it took only seconds to reach the teepee.

Faith's words were still causing him to blush. The girl's language was awful. There seemed to be no end to what might come out of that mouth, yet there was no doubt that she truly cared for her brother.

Once inside the safe confines of the teepee, Jack's hand snaked out toward Hansel's teasing breechcloth and found its true target. His hand closed around the stallion nestled there. He gave it a gentle caress before beginning a slow but steady move on its long, sleek shaft even as his mouth sought out Hansel's in a flame-searing kiss. They were safe from prying, lust-filled eyes, and Jack could finally show Hansel just how much he wanted him.

Hansel backed even further inside the teepee and suddenly tripped and fell over something in the darkness. He fell onto his back with his steed sticking up from the breechcloth that no longer covered him, and Jack fell lustily upon it, his mouth working upon its deliciousness as though he was a starving immigrant who had just found nirvana. His hands roamed over his lover's body, stroking him with a heated touch, even as an old love song played in his head, reminding himself to take it real slow like the song warned him.

_ As the midnight moon was drifting through  
The lazy sway of the trees,  
I saw the look in your eyes, lookin' into mine,  
Seeing what you wanted to see.  
Darlin' don't say a word, 'cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine.  
I'm tired of fast moves.  
I've got a slow groove...  
On my mind_

I want a man with a slow hand.  
I want a lover with an easy touch.  
I want somebody who will spend some time,  
Not come and go in a heated rush.  
I want somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand.

On shadowed ground, with no one around  
And a blanket of stars in our eyes,  
We are drifting free, like two lost leaves  
On the crazy wind of the night.  
Darlin', don't say a word, 'cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine.  
If I want it all night,  
You say it's all right;  
We got the time.

'Cause I got a man with a slow hand.  
I got a lover with an easy touch.  
I found somebody who will spend some time,  
Not come and go in a heated rush.  
I found somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand.

If I want it all night,  
Please say it's alright.  
It's not a fast move,  
But a slow groove  
On my mind.

'Cause I got a man with a slow hand.  
I got a lover with an easy touch.  
I found somebody who will spend some time,  
Not come and go in a heated rush.  
I found somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand.

Jack slowed his motions down but increased the deepness of his kiss. He wanted Hansel to enjoy this time together even more than the other times. He wanted him to have these memories to hold on to long after he was gone. He wanted to give everything he ever hoped to have to Hansel, and he wanted the memories to cherish as well for as long as he lived. Yet, even now in the midst of heat that strove to tear him asunder, he felt time running out . . . He knew his time was running out much too fast. He held on to the man he loved and hoped that he could not sense the fear in his heart nor see the lone tear that ran down his face . . .

Hansel's eyesight, like nearly every other talent he possessed, had been trained by the years he had spent living with the Indians, and so it was that his blue eyes, despite the passion that blazed in them, caught the sight of the tear falling down Jack's face by the light of the full moon filtering into the teepee. His heart caught as passion transformed into concern. He caught the tear with a finger and looked worriedly up into his Gypsy's bewitching eyes.

The feelings his gentle, loving touches had been invoking in his body were still shooting through him and making him tingle deliciously from head to toe, but still his passion ebbed with that one tear he saw fall. What on Earth was wrong to make his mighty Gypsy cry? He gazed into his eyes and ached to know the mysteries he hid and what thoughts were passing through his mind, yet he wondered just how much right he had to ask him. He had to try, but if he did not want to tell him, he could not push him. He could only guard over him, watch and protect him, and make sure no harm befell him. He knew what he had suffered at Derek's hands, but he could only guess at what Jack might have survived.

"Whatever is wrong, *love*?" The word slipped out before he knew it was on his tongue. Hansel was glad that he had spoken in the language of his people for he knew Jack would not understand. It was too soon to love him, especially when he'd thought just that morning that he had loved Derek, but he had no other name for the emotions that surged within him brighter and grander than anything Derek had ever made him feel.

His blue eyes searched Jack's dark gaze. He ached to beg him to tell him, but he knew he could not push him. He had no right to demand answers of him when, in truth, they barely knew each other. But that was not true. He knew his soul and his heart for they were each a part of him. Derek had been the greatest mistake of his life, but at long last he had found his missing piece in this wandering Gypsy. Gypsy lover, he wanted to say, wander no more but could not for he would not force Jack to do or say anything he did not want to.

* * *

Dawson's mouth had fallen open in shock at how blatant Faith had been with her brother, but then he had known his love didn't take sex lightly when it came to her brother, just when it came to her. He was hoping to change her mind about that as he didn't want any one else to come behind him. He intended to be her one true love.

In her next breath, she had talked about riding her horse, and he had no idea if he could even get on the horse. He was scared, but he couldn't show her. He had to be strong for if he could not be as strong as she appeared to be, he knew he was lost to start with. Despite the fact he was quaking in his boots, he walked boldly beside her to where her horse was.

With blood pounding in her ears and fire racing in her veins, Faith rushed to her faithful steed. When she was only a few feet away from him, she let go of Dawson's hand and began to strip. She disrobed with movements as swift as a striking rattlesnake's, leaving her clothes upon the ground to be collected later, and jumped astride his back. Tornado whinnied, and her smile grew secretly for she detected the note in his voice that told her he was aching for adventure.

She patted his neck quickly. He was about to get more adventure than he'd ever thought to have before. Most women would have been scared that he might buck and throw them from his back, but Faith knew that Tornado was one of only two males in the entire world whom she could trust inexplicably to her dying breath. She turned and reached a hand down to Dawson with the full moon shining upon her naked breasts.

Dawson's mouth watered, and his pants suddenly were a lot tighter. His mouth longed for those perfect orbs, and he forgot all about his fear of the horse as Faith leaned down for him and he took her hand. He always marveled at how fast she could get undressed. His mouth locked with hers as she pulled him up to the horse and began to tear at his clothes. His blood raced through his veins, and his head pounded. His hands were very busily stroking her breasts as he deepened their kiss.

Faith leaned back into Dawson's arms, enjoying the feel of his hands massaging her breasts. She kept one hand entangled in Tornado's long, flowing mane while using her other hand to tear at Dawson's shirt. She gave her steed a gentle nudge with her knees, and he whinnied again and galloped on into the night. The winds played over her body and tugged lightly at her raven hair.

There seemed to be something in the air tonight, something lingering after the storm that called for the greatest adventure of all, that of the heated passion created between two entangling bodies. For just a moment, the thought flitted through her mind that there may be an even greater adventure, after all, of two hearts beating as one, but she pushed that which she deemed nonsense aside and focused on the feel of the moment.

Her fingernails raked Dawson's shirt from his back and tossed it into the wind, and still her lips did not let up on his. Her tongue thrust ever deeper into his mouth as her hand ran over his bared chest. She hooked her fingers into the hem of his trousers and ran light circles over his skin with her fingertips before beginning to work on unbuttoning his pants.

She frowned against his mouth. She should have thought to get rid of the damned pants before she let him mount, but she wasn't used to taking men astride Tornado. The only man to ever ride him before was Hansel, and the few who had tried had been lucky to walk away with their lives. A couple had not even had their manhood left, but Faith was determined to make sure Dawson's stayed in tact.

Dawson wished he had taken his pants off back at the camp. They were more of a hindrance than anything else. The horse was moving much too fast for him to be able to take them off while astride. As Faith unbuttoned his buttons, his steed sprung forward, waving in the night air as though it was saying Hi! to Faith.

He wondered what his colleagues back home who had laughed at him would think if they could see him now. They would never believe it was him, and therefore he determined not to write any of it to them. They would only laugh and say he was making it up.

His mouth angled for another kiss even as his hands continued to knead her breasts. He wasn't sure he was up for this. Maybe if he let Faith have the upper hand, not that she wasn't going to take it to start with? He realized he had been following all along and had not made any initiatives. He wasn't sure how to even try.

He was new at this game but a very apt pupil. A very eager pupil, he reminded himself. He wanted to learn everything Faith would teach him, and in return, he wanted to win her heart, whatever it took. If he needed to be wild, he vowed to be wild.

As Faith kissed Dawson, her hand moved to his staff. It was already thick and slick with eagerness. She wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed ever so lightly. Then she rubbed her fingers around it, bringing her hand up and down repeatedly in a quickening motion.

Dawson almost jumped out of his hide as his steed sprang eagerly forward, despite his pants, to meet Faith's silky touch. He wanted to be inside her. He wasn't sure how this was going to happen. He had never been on a galloping horse in his life before this night and wondered if Faith had ever done this before and just how dangerous it was.

Tornado whickered, and Faith stroked his neck. She uncurled her fingers from Dawson's staff, then wrapped them around him again. She unleashed him and caught him again, this time as close to the base as she could reach. She slid her hand slowly up his manhood, caressing, stroking, and slightly squeezing him, until her thumb could reach the end of his staff. As her hand unleashed and recaptured him again and again, her thumb began running circles over his head.

Dawson almost came at her mere touch, but when she started doing this new maneuver upon him, he definitely had to fight it down. He couldn't bare to cum too early for when he did, he wanted to be in her, not out and merely held in her hand. He wasn't a man of steel, not when it came to Faith. He felt like a melted bowl of butter! "Faith?" he murmured against her mouth. "Don't do too much of that," he pleaded despite the fact that he was enjoying it, "or it will all be over too soon."

She took pleasure out of merely pleasing him, something that she had never done before. Always before she had wanted to be impaled and ridden hard as quickly as possible, but tonight something different was moving her. She continued the pumping sensation and picked up speed. Her thumb quickened its motions on his head, and her nail gently grazed his tender flesh.

"It's okay," she told him and licked his lips. "It's okay, Dawson. Move with it. Move with Nature. Cum for me."

Where the Hell had that come from? she wondered. This man was getting far too deeply underneath her skin and far too fast! Yet she wanted to engulf his very soul in pleasure.

"Cum for me," she whispered again, squeezing a tad bit harder, before recapturing his mouth. Her tongue plunged inside his sweet contours as far as she could reach as every fiber of her being ached to plunge down upon him and take him deep within. Soon, she promised. She'd teach the boy she could ride him many times before he dropped. Soon, but yet, it couldn't be soon enough . . .

At her words, he did just that. He could hold it back no longer. He exploded into a million colored lights, screaming out her name and holding on tightly. He forgot he was on a horse, and all there was in his world was Faith. He held on to her as his world fell down.

He wanted her! He loved her! He would die for her! In fact, he was dying for her now! He had never cum so hard and so fast from a mere touch of a hand, yet his Faith knew what to do with her hand and his steed knew exactly how to answer it.

She wished she could hold him as he fell back to earth, and then, just as quickly as the thought had come, she shoved it aside. Yet when she gazed into his eyes and saw nothing but wonderment and love she found those strange sensations beginning to stir again. Her eyes remained locked with his as she raised the hand that his seed glistened upon and slowly licked his juices off of her fingers.

* * *

Jack did not understand what Hansel had called him, but he leaned eagerly forward to show his love for his Golden Honey Bear. For this moment in time, he left the fear and worry outside the teepee door and pulled on Hansel's feathered arms. He wanted to be locked inside those strong arms where he would be safe. He wanted to pretend that he was just a very lucky Gypsy boy and Hansel was his great love, who could keep all the evil at bay.

He admired his love's strong body that could only be seen in the clothes he wore now. The gaudy clothes Hansel usually wore hid his body from the world and made him look too soft. The truth, as could be seen from the lack of clothes, revealed to Jack's lustful eyes that not only was his love well endowed in the steed area, but his body was strong and muscular in all areas. Why would he ever let a skunk like Derek abuse such a beautiful body? It would never happen again, Jack vowed.

Now he gazed longingly upon the gifts Hansel was giving him, and thrills shot up through him. Jack wanted Hansel to be on him everywhere at once! Let me in, he pleaded silently, his dark eyes feasting on his love's body and his hand beginning its slow dance upon Hansel's steed, making it grow ever harder in Jack's worshipping hand . . .

Hansel was pained that Jack would not tell him what bothered him, but he knew he had to let it go. He would not force him to tell him, but he would continue to wait for the answer and hope that Jack would one day soon trust him enough to tell him. He tried to hold to the thought that Jack needed him to cheer him up and to assuage whatever troubled him, but his Gypsy's hand upon his already-willing steed swiftly had all other thoughts melting from his mind. Hansel moaned in delight to the rhythm Jack built.

Jack brought his mouth to Hansel's steed. Gently he began to lick and then nibble the shaft. It quivered and jumped in his hand when Jack's mouth came down on it. Not releasing his hold, Jack moved around to where he was within reach for Hansel, one hand removing the silky pants Hansel had given him earlier. One thing good about them was the ease of which they could be removed.

As his steed sprang forth he became so hard he feared he would lose it. Reminding himself, slow and steady, he continued sucking at Hansel even as his loins surged from the mere gaze of his beloved. Would he lose it when Hansel actually touched him? He hoped not else the night might be over before it began.

Hansel touched Jack's steed reverently and swept his fingers over its length with touches as soft as velvet. He stroked every inch of him, taking his time as Jack had done for him every time from even the first time they had made love and he had shown him his first hint of all that Hansel had been missing. When he had made a complete circle, Hansel cupped his manhood with his palm. He admired his beauty once more before leaning forward and beginning to sprinkle kisses that were every bit as gentle and loving as his touches had been. He began at his base and slowly worked his way all the way up. After kissing his head, he flicked his tongue out and licked his tip.

Jack trembled at Hansel's touch but did not let up on his own endeavorings. His tongue continued to lave Hansel's steed despite the fact that every nibble he was receiving from Hansel almost shot him over the end. He returned nibbles, matching Hansel stroke for stroke, while one hand continued its slow way, massaging and stroking every place it could reach. Later he vowed it would be his mouth instead of his hand. He wanted to taste every inch of his love's body and store it away for the day he would not be with him, so that he could hold the memories close on a cold, rainy night. His need grew heavy and his steed surged of its own accord, filling Hansel's mouth as Jack held back no longer. No rule said how long one had to hold back, and as he felt Hansel's hands upon him, he closed his eyes and let it rain . . .

Hansel rode the rainbow of love with Jack. His teeth grazed his steed as he held him, drinking every drop. For the first time in a long time, he did not reflect on the bitterness of the taste. Instead he enjoyed the juices for they, too, were a part of his wonderful Gypsy, drank it all down, and wanted more. He lifted his head after a moment, patted his steed, raised up, and kissed his lips.

He gazed into his eyes as he kissed him and remembered the tear that had fallen down his handsome face. There was so much he wanted to ask him, but he would not push him. Other words that he dared not speak swelled within his heart and throat, but he knew it was too soon. He did not want to frighten him. He held him gently as he slowly deepened their kiss.

* * *

Dawson gazed in wonder at the girl who licked him up as though he was champagne. In the past, he had heard others talk of their women running to wash the same stuff from their hands as though it was filth. How could women be so different? How could this one woman have conquered him so completely that he hung upon her every word and lived only to please her? Yet he knew that if she asked him to, he would die for her. He kissed her deeply, reveling in her every movement. He was determined to be everything she needed or desired. This time he would let her lead the way, but soon, he vowed, he would surprise her by attempting to lead the way.

When Faith broke from Dawson's lips this time, her head was spinning from the magnitude of the emotions growing inside her. She turned back around, stroked Tornado's neck, and called to him. Then, while using extreme care but also trying to appear callous, she stood upon his back and began to turn around.

Dawson watched, ready to catch her lest she fall and wondering at her gracefulness in her turning. He wondered, too, what was next, and he braced himself for anything . . .

Faith was even more careful as she sat back down again. She was not concerned with falling but rather with hurting Tornado's back. The horse was huge, wild, and muscular, but he was also one of her very best friends. Indeed, over the last few years during which she had spent increasingly less time with Hansel, he had become her best friend and sometimes her only confidante.

When she sat back down again, Faith was facing Dawson. Her legs dangled against his, and her feet rubbed his legs teasingly as she grinned at him. She sat so close to him that her womanhood brushed against his shaft as she leaned forward and kissed him again.

His eyes flashed at her in the dark, "Teaser!" he declared. {Should we not stop to do this?} He needed to get his pants off and get the horse to stop as well. Give both of them a break!

"Teaser am I?" she returned, her eyes flashing back at him. Her feet hooked around his legs, and she drew him closer. Before he could speak another word, she was on him, her mouth devouring his, her hands roaming his body freely, and her womanhood sliding down upon his staff.

He slipped into her like a knife meant for a sheath so deeply that he feared he was hurting her, but as she began to ride him, he relaxed and began the rhythm as old as time. He slowly began to thrust up into her, his body burning as though he was on fire.

Dawson was in heaven! On horseback with a woman that he not only found to be extremely beautiful but was in love with, her long legs wrapped around him, holding his shaft embedded deeply within her, barely out of sight of the camp, left him feeling over exhilarated. Anxious not to be seen but not wanting to end their ride, he held her where he could suckle her breasts and lavished great attention upon them. He felt her tighten around him and knew that he was about to burst but held it back as long as he could . . .

The rhythm of the horses's gait increased the contact between them. Then he felt her nails digging into his back even as he felt himself beginning to shoot over the top in a never-ending spiral of ecstasy. In all the times they had been together, this was the greatest orgasm he had had yet! He didn't understand why or how, but each time had been even better then the last. This time, his mouth found hers in a deep kiss as her nails cut deeper into his back, leaving her marks on his very soul for all time. He surged upward into her and felt as though he had broken through into Heaven! His cries fell into her mouth and were swallowed by the night wind . . .

**To Be Continued . . . **


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Jack felt Hansel's concern and knew that they would have to talk. Too many important things lay between them. He wanted to know the man he loved more than for just great sex. He returned Hansel's kiss deeply and yet not as passionately as before. He broke it off suddenly, then pulled away for a minute. The air must be somewhat cleared between them. They had to talk.

Jack had to leave. Love had found him in his last hours, and if Hansel had fallen for Jack like Jack had fallen for him, Jack had to know. Clearly his actions were those of a man besotted with sexual love. So were Jack's own, he mused. Could it be true that they were soul mates and be truly in love?

Love at first sight. The phrase echoed through his mind even as he told himself, {Too much musings. Talk to him; don't just screw his brains out.} He was the sweetest, tenderest lover Jack had ever known. Jack couldn't hurt him, but could Jack tell him the truth of what his tomorrows would most likely turn into?

No, they could not continue, he decided. They would have to talk or they would have to part before one of them gained a broken heart. So having made up his mind, he gazed into Hansel's eyes glazed over with love and said those words that all lovers hate to hear but sooner or later they must confront . . . "Hansel, we cannot continue on this way; we must talk!"

Jack felt awkward, sitting there with only his shirt on. He slowly unbuttoned it, giving Hansel a chance to say something, anything to break the awful silence that followed his statement that they needed to talk. He could have continued with Hansel as they were already, pumping away at each other like two rabbits in heat with no commitment, but he didn't want to.

He wanted Hansel in the worst sort of way, almost as though he were a sickness, a wild fever racing through his blood threatening to destroy the both of them. Sex with Hansel had been heavenly, but Jack wanted more. Did Hansel? He stole a sideways glance but couldn't tell anything except that Hansel seemed deep in thought. Not angry, as Jack was relieved to see, but almost sad.

He sat cross-legged in front of Hansel -- Hansel, who was the most wonderful being he had ever known or been blessed to make love with. His heart would explode and kill him if Hansel rejected him. He whispered his name . . . and then, silently, a prayer to his grandmother's Goddess.

He hadn't talked to Her in quite a long time, not since he had found himself all alone in the world, not since he had lost his family. He promised to at least say something good every day to Her and to make a sacrifice pleasing to Her if only She would smile on him now and help him win Hansel. {Please let him want me the way I want him! For what time I have left, please let him love me and mourn for me when I am gone!}

He had been very excited over the dance Hansel had performed only for him, but the emotions raging through his brain and body had made him want to seek the truth. It had made him long to be one with Hansel forever. He wanted to feel his hardness making him scream for more, but he couldn't, not knowing.

He could remember words his grandmother had spoken of loving his grandfather, the feelings they had shared, and how, when he was gone too soon, no other would ever do for her. Soul mates was what she had called it. She had talked to him sometimes after his death, not caring who had heard her.

That's why some of their people had feared she was crazy, but Jack knew better. He had felt his grandfather's presence on more than one occasion and knew that he lingered, waiting for the other half of himself so that they could be together forever. He wanted that for himself and finally knew who he wanted for his forever love.

Their meeting had been intense from the very beginning. Hansel had saved him from the Hunter's pets and never knew how much danger he had been in. Jack didn't want to lose him to those things or anything else. A million things kept running through his tattered mind, all in the course of scant seconds, but finally he realized that Hansel had still not answered him.

He reached out, gently pushed the hair out of his love's eyes, and was shocked to see tears in those sad, blue orbs. Had his question caused them? He hoped not, but he had to know. "Hansel," Jack whispered his name . . .

At the sight of Hansel's tears, Jack's heart sank to his boots. Hansel was crying over another -- some one he was already in love with -- , and Jack was the loser. Determined to be brave despite the pain now racking his body, he had to know why. He wanted to scream his anguish out loud but didn't want to hurt Hansel even more.

Kneeling in front of him, wanting to hold him close and kiss his tears away, he barely kept from pulling him into his arms and comforting him. He knew where that would lead. He couldn't touch him and not want him. He had to know why . . . He already feared who. How could Derek be such an ass, to have such a golden treasure and throw it away as if it was nothing?! Had there ever been a bigger idiot born?

From the few chance encounters he had had with the bum, he couldn't see anything special about him. A black rage filled Jack's heart. Not only was Derek a piece of crap on humanity's life road, but he held Hansel's heart captive! He wanted to crush something, and he desperately wanted it to be Derek's head. He tried to control his anger even as thoughts raced through his mind as to how he could get rid of his nemesis and win Hansel's love for himself. He knew that if he killed "it", Hansel would never forgive him.

Then one thought of hope came to him. If Derek was so great, why had Hansel never been loved completely, at least not until he himself had had a chance to enjoy the passionate gift of Hansel? There had to be a way to win him, and Jack vowed to find it. He would crawl through Hell on his knees if it took it to gain his Golden Eagle, and no one or thing would stop him, not even the Hunter!

Hansel tried failingly to blink away the tears that welled inside his big, blue eyes, but they only continued to course down his cheeks. "Go ahead," he whispered, his voice breaking in a near-whimper. "Leave. I can get some one . . . to show you back . . . "

Jack's words echoed in his mind. They were the very same words that Derek had spoken to him the day everything had started to change. They couldn't go on that way, because Derek couldn't be gay. They couldn't continue to be in love, because the town would look down upon them for their feelings for each other and it would cause them to lose business. All Derek had ever cared about was money and his reputation. Hansel could see that now, but he had thought Jack had been different.

Why? Why should he have thought Jack would be different? He barely knew the man, he told himself. He had been fooled, just as he had been fooled by Derek, into thinking that he knew him because of his gentle touches and the incredible loving they had shared, but he barely knew him at all.

He looked at him, cocking his head slightly to one side, as he continued trying to force the betraying tears to quit. He barely knew him. How could he have been so stupid as to think he could love him?

He fought to focus on what little he knew about Jack, as if those few facts might be able to bring home the knowledge that he barely knew him to his heart and lessen the pain he felt. His name was Jack; he was a Gypsy. Thieves had stolen everything he'd had the night before. He thought he might have a cat as there was a tabby who'd refused to leave his side back home.

No, not back home, he thought, blinking fiercely. Back in town. This was his home, his people, his family, and he'd been gone far too long, gone because he had so foolishly thought he'd loved some one who had only wanted to have a good time with him and had then been fighting to call it all quits since the day they'd first started racking in serious money.

But Jack hadn't left him when he'd returned to his people. He'd said so many things, said he'd wanted to learn, claimed he'd wanted to be accepted by his family, expressed that he wanted to stay with him and know all there was about him, . . . but he'd also said that they could not continue the way they were going.

He wanted him for a good time, nothing more or less, and he'd fallen hard for the first gentle touch he'd ever had, just as he had for the first man to ever return his attentions for longer than one night. Jack had been longer than a night . . . barely. Suddenly aware of how naked he was, Hansel straightened his breechcloth, rolled to his feet, and walked further into the shadows of the teepee. "Go," he repeated, his voice trembling and his heart aching. "I'll make sure you get back safely . . . "

He should apologize for dragging him out so far from civilization. No, damn it, he shouldn't! He hadn't told the man to come! He hadn't forced him to do one thing! So why had he come? The answer was obvious and bitingly cruel: He'd wanted one more trip to his "banquet", and he'd just had it. Hansel stood in the dark, trembling not because of any cold but because of the pain that seared through his heart and soul. Oh, what a fool he'd been yet again!

{Go where?!} Jack tried to hold it together and not scream. Why had Hansel retreated to the farthest part of the teepee out of his reach? Why did he want him to go, and where? he asked himself.

Of course, Hansel was tired of him and only wanted to be with Derek again and Jack was simply in the way, but he'd be damned if he'd be moved easily! If he wanted him gone, he'd go back to town and get rid of the garbage, so that when Hansel returned maybe he'd want him again when he got lonely enough. Jack hoped that would be soon as he longed to be in Hansel's arms even now.

Before he left, he had to be sure. He looked Hansel in the eyes; he was still longing to wipe his tears away. "Derek?" he asked in a shaky voice.

Hansel's brow creased with confusion as he stood with his arms wrapped around his torso. It gave him the appearance that he was hugging himself, but there was only one hug that could chase away the sadness that threatened to engulf him and it could only come from arms who no longer wanted to hold him. "What?" he queried, his surprise clear in his voice. What did Derek have to do with this?

Then an even worse pain hit his heart, and had it not been hurting so badly, he would have thought it was dead for the hollow ache that rang throughout his core. Surely this hadn't been one of Derek's tricks? No, it couldn't be!

Although he claimed not to want him, Derek had always hit him every time he'd even exchanged a look with any other man. He'd not have him have another . . . unless he knew that there would be no hope of him having that other man again . . . and that he could use Hansel's faithlessness as another excuse to beat him, to hurt him, to leave him, to never truly love him . . .

His voice shook even more as he demanded, "What does Derek have to do with this? With us?" The last two words to leave his tongue sounded as hollow as he felt inside. There was no us between Jack and he. There would never be, perhaps had never been, because Jack didn't really love him. Maybe he couldn't love him. Maybe Derek was right. Maybe he was good for nothing but a screw every now and again.

He remembered the way Derek had raged earlier about Jack. He'd pretended not to know anything about him and to be furious, but then Derek was a great actor. He'd proved his acting skills again and again, every time he'd told him he loved him, he cared about him, he wanted nothing but his happiness, his safety, his love . . . Was that all Jack was too, an actor? Was he nothing more than a job to him?

He whirled to face him suddenly, and anger glowered in his blue eyes, shimmering with the tears of anguish and sadness that also filled them and spilled down his face. "Tell me," he demanded. "What did he do?"

Jack was stunned that Hansel had misunderstood what he had been trying to ask him. Though it broke his heart a little more, he managed to get out the words, "You want me to go because you love him?"

Gods, how he longed to cross the space between them and kiss the tears off his eyes and face! But he couldn't for he knew he didn't have that right. He'd never felt more helpless! He forced himself not to clench his hands into fists that longed to beat the very life out of the man he hated and stood waiting for Hansel to finish sending him away to what he now considered Hell . . . Any life without Hansel would be that!!!!!!

Hansel's confusion grew and continued to show plainly upon his emotionally-etched face. "Don't . . . " His throat was suddenly tight and his mouth dry. He swallowed hard several times, struggling just to breathe for the emotions that clogged his throat, before he was able to choke out in a distraught whisper, "Don't you want to leave?" That had to be what he wanted to talk about. He'd heard those words many times, and they'd never preceded anything but heartache and pain!

Jack wondered what was going through Hansel's mind and wished that he had the power to know as his grandmother had been able to do. Why was he throwing him a life line, or had he changed his mind? He hadn't answered his question about Derek. "I never want to go unless you want me to . . . " he murmured. "Derek?" he asked again, hoping Hansel would tell him what his heart desired to hear but he feared never would . . .

Hansel looked at him, his blue eyes wary through his tears. "Derek," he stated simply, licking his lips to try to ease the dryness of fear and heartache that was trying to overtake him, "is an ass, but . . . " He shook his head and tried again desperately to read Jack. If only he could read humans like he could horses! "You were the one who said we could not continue like this," he reminded him, his eyes searching his.

"I can't, not if you love Derek! Can't you tell me that one answer, Hansel? Be truthful with me please!" he pleaded, tears forming in his own eyes. "I have to know even though I'd rather be struck in the heart with a knife than to know there is no hope!! I can't go on as a substitute . . . "

Hansel was unaware that his mouth had dropped open. Suddenly he felt not only shocked by Jack's heated, emotional cries but ashamed. He wished the earth would swallow him up and hide him, but of all the many times he'd ever wished it, it had never happened yet. He thought of going to Jack, of touching him, caressing him, stroking his fears away, but the anger he saw now shooting in his eyes stilled him and made him quiver inside.

Unable to stand any longer for the emotions coursing through his body, Hansel folded his legs and sat so swiftly that he seemed almost to fall to the ground. "A substitute . . . " he whispered hoarsely. "I never said you were a substitute, Jack. I never said anything about loving Derek, though, I suppose . . . I understand you must have heard things."

He sighed, touched his eyes with his once, and then dropped his gaze back to the ground, unable to bare the look in the dark orbs whose beauty had so fascinated him. Now they were filled with anguish, hurt, and anger, and he could easily see fury and wrath replacing them. He tried to still his shaking, but still his body quivered ever so slightly. To look at him, one could not see the shaking, but if one were to touch him, they would feel his body quivering like a newborn colt and his heart racing like a wild mustang who was fearful of being caught.

For that brief moment in time that their eyes met, Jack felt the emotions coursing through Hansel's body. He wished that he was the cause of them but knew he was not. He broke off the look that he feared Hansel could read in his eyes. He didn't know what he was about to hear, but he wasn't sure if he could take it or not. He just knew that before this night was out either he would have won or, if he had lost, he would walk straight into the Hunter's path, making himself a target for now he knew what he wanted and without it he could not live nor would he choose to.

"There was a time," he said, licking his lips again and wishing for water but yet not daring to move around to look for it, "that I thought I loved Derek, but I've learned a lot . . . in the course of one day, Jack. One of those things was . . . that . . . Derek never loved me . . . and I only thought I loved him."

He hesitantly raised his gaze back to his. "But you were the one who said that we could not continue, that we had to talk. Was it really Derek you wanted to talk about?" he questioned.

As Hansel talked soothing words as though he were talking to a horse he was trying to tame, Jack listened, moved to where Hansel was sitting, and sat on the floor close enough to be able to touch him, which he did by slowly reaching out and stroking his forearm. The gentle sensation sent thrills shooting through Hansel's arm and began to ease his fear. "I want to talk about us," Jack spoke slowly, "our pasts and our future, not just that lowlife Derek. I had to know what he means to you. I had to know if you are feeling what I'm feeling or if it's my imagination."

Hansel listened, letting Jack talk as his heart hammered, still within his throat. He saw again the tear falling down his new love's handsome face and wondered a second time what had caused it. Had it been because he feared his heart belonged to Derek? What, precisely, did he want to talk about concerning their futures? He remembered once more his words from before, when he had told him how he wanted him to teach him everything he knew and wanted to become a part of his family, and wondered again if it could be true.

He let him talk, waiting for the answers to the questions that burned within him to reveal themselves and wondering, too, how he could have ever thought that Jack would prove to be like Derek when he was nothing like the man who had turned his world inside out in all the wrong ways. The time he had spent with Jack since that morning replayed itself through his mind as he listened, and he realized that Jack had turned his world inside out again. Whereas Derek had left his world upside down, however, Jack was finally turning it right. And yet he had lashed out at him . . .

Tears stung his blue eyes, and he knew it was all Derek's fault. How could he expect anything good when all he had known for so long was pain, heartache, and misery? He should have broken away from him years ago, but then, if he had, perhaps he would not have been there last night to see Jack be robbed and rescue him . . . Perhaps he would not know Jack now . . . No, lingering with Derek had indeed proved worthwhile, but only because it had brought him to Jack.

"Hansel," Jack began hesitantly, "the only love I've ever known was that of my grandparents'. They've been gone a long time, and I miss them terribly. My people are all dead and gone save for three: my brother, my cat, and myself. I've been abused and used in the past. I've never known love. I've never known gentle, not 'til there was you! I've had more love from you in one day than in my whole life!"

"I want you. I long for your body entwined with mine, but I want you to be there for me and I for you, all the time, day and night, with no secrets between us, only love. You have to know this just as I have to tell you my past and what may be the only future that lies in store for us. But I couldn't tell you unless I knew what was in your heart. I don't know what true love is, but I know what I feel for you is real and comes from my heart and that may be as close as I ever come to love."

"I feared I had lost you to Derek, and I didn't want to live a single day without you and your love." He reached out, took Hansel's hand, and pressed it against his heart. "It beats only for you!!!!!"

Again, Hansel found himself stunned, but this time it was in an entirely different manner. Tingles spread from his palm touching Jack's flesh right above his heart all the way throughout his body to the very tips of his toes. This wonderfully sweet and gentle man loved him, and he had compared him to Derek! He had thought that he was just another scallywag, another man bent on using him for his own gain and leaving him with his heart torn asunder. How could he have ever thought so of him?! His head hung in shame, his teary eyes dropping from his, as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack lifted Hansel's face and leaned even closer so that he could wipe the tears off. He caught one of the tears and brought it to his lips where he tasted it. It tasted sweet and salty at the same time, reminding him that Hansel had tasted that way before when they had made love!

Why was he still crying and saying he was sorry? "Why are you sorry, my love?" he asked softly as he attempted to put his arms around his heart's desire. He prayed silently that it was not because he had declared his love and Hansel couldn't return it.

He welcomed his embrace, nearly falling into his arms, but still he couldn't help thinking that he didn't deserve the loving touch. "For ever doubting you," he spoke, his voice low, as he dared to look back up into his enchanting eyes. "For ever thinking that you could be like . . . like that _thing_ . . . " He trembled in Jack's arms at the mere thought of Derek.

He should explain, but how much should he tell him? How much, after seeing his body, did he already expect? Regardless he deserved to know why he had jumped to the conclusion he had. "It's just . . . when you . . . when you said those awful words . . . about how we couldn't go on . . . how we needed to talk . . . I-I've heard those words before, m-many times, and . . . it's never been good . . . " Perhaps that would be enough, but he doubted it.

He wanted to forget about Derek. He wanted to forget about the past. He wanted to shape a new future, and he wanted Jack to star in it. But what was that he had said earlier? Something about there might only be one future available to them? He frowned as he struggled to remember the exact words his sweet Gypsy had used. What did it mean?

Jack wanted nothing more than to take Hansel right there on the floor, but the truth had only partly come out and he knew it had to come out all the way or there was no hope for their tomorrows. He continued to hold Hansel's trembling body desperately, because he feared that when Hansel knew the truth, he would turn his back and want nothing more to do with him. He wanted to hold onto him as long as he could.

He turned Hansel's palm up and kissed it. "I forgive you, my heart," he spoke softly, "but you can never forgive me. You have to know this . . . I . . . I killed my own people . . . I-I did not mean to, but it is my fault as though it was I myself who pulled the trigger. Their blood lies on my hands, and I can never wash it away though Kali knows I have tried." Now Hansel would flee, and he wouldn't have to tell him the rest of the mess that was his life.

Hansel gazed up at Jack in confusion, his shock growing. He raised a hand and lovingly cupped his handsome face. Slowly he raised his other hand and cupped his other cheek. "I'm sorry," he told him, "that your people were killed, sweetheart, but I do not believe that you would have ever harmed them intentionally."

"What . . . What happened?" Almost as soon as he asked, he assured him, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm here to listen to anything you want to tell me." His mind whirled. Jack's words could not be truth!

Jack gazed deeply into Hansel's eyes and held on tightly to him as he forced himself to speak aloud of the past that haunted his every moment. "My people were a gay and happy people; we caused no troubles for any one. We were led by a wise woman who was my Grandmother. My Grandfather was her soul mate. They raised me though my Mother died at birth. I never knew her or who my father was. My Grandparents loved me very much and gave me freedom to roam, and I spent a lot of time roaming through the nearby woods.

"One day, I met a new boy who was younger than me. We made friends quickly, but he swore me to secrecy because he was afraid if his father found out, he would keep us apart. His name was Brendan, and we became blood brothers. I should have told my Grandparents; maybe they could have done something to stop the mess that followed.

"There was a wicked Sorceress in our land who wanted power more than anything. She would kill or run over anybody to gain power. One day, when we were out playing, she sent her evil followers to take Brendan, because she knew what he was and wanted him for her very own. They captured him and, despite our best efforts to stop them from taking him, carried him to her castle. He fought them all the way but to no avail. I followed at a distance to see where they took him and then ran all the way home to my Grandparents.

"I should have told them in the beginning, but, like the accursed dinlow I was, I didn't. My Grandfather shook his head and then looked sadly at my Grandmother. She had known all along what was going on; she had seen the future. She shed one tear and then another before she gathered my Grandfather into her arms for a sad embrace.

"They kissed, and then not knowing what would happen next, I followed my Grandfather back to the castle. He told me to stay hidden until he sent Brendan out and then grab him and run to my Grandmother. He ordered me not to look back, no matter what happened, and I was more afraid then than I'd ever been before." Tears were now running unchecked down his face, though he was unaware of them. All he could see was his grandfather's reassuring smile and then his back as he walked away from him for the last time.

"I-I hid," he continued shamefully, "an-and w-watched as . . . as he w-walked toward the castle and then d-disappeared from my sight." Hansel stroked his back as Jack continued to force his words out through the emotions and tears that clogged his throat. "I-It seemed like for-forever wh-when I h-heard explosions. Bl-Blue s-smoke f-filled the air. I-I heard someone running straight towards me and looked to find Brendan running t-to me. We ran to my home only to find every one waiting for our return. We lit out of there r-running for our very lives.

"M-My Gran-Grandfather n-never re-returned alive to us. I d-don't know how he died, b-but they . . . they killed him. His spirit lingered near my Grandmother until she joined him. When we came to our new place and set up camp Grandmother told me of his death. I-I knew it was m-my fault despite her t-telling me it wasn't."

Hansel hugged Jack as he whispered, "She was right. It wasn't your fault."

But Jack continued as though he'd not heard him, "W-We no longer had a safe place to live. Ever so often, they would get on our trail and we . . . we'd move again. She raised Brendan and me until my sixteenth birthday. Then . . . Then she called me to her and t-told me that I m-must take him to a friend of ours.

He spoke again her fateful words as the night winds blew around the teepee, "'You must take him there for only th-there will he find safety. Willow will go with you to help keep you safe and show you the way. Your Grandfather and I have always been very p-pr-proud of y-you.' She . . . She hugged the b-both of us and s-slipped a charm around m-my neck. 'This too will keep you safe. Now hurry and take him to our old friend, Hank McCoy. He is the doctor in a town called Los Almas. T-Tell him everything.'

"She hugged Brendan. She . . . She hugged me. 'Y-You b-both h-have been the b-b-best s-sons a M-M-Mother could ever want. I saw the t-tears of p-p-parting in her eyes. I p-promised to return soon and . . . and hastened off with Brendan. I-I never knew . . . I'd never see her alive again!" Hot tears spilled down his trembling face like a waterfall.

Hansel held him as he cried a while before resuming, "W-When we reached Los Almas about a week later, it . . . it was not hard to find the good doctor who was out and about healing the sick. Upon finding out our sorrowful tale, he agreed to hide Brendan and see that he was taken care of. I hated to leave my brother behind, but f-fear gr-gripped m-my heart and gave m-my feet wings.

"I-I almost flew h-home, b-but the . . . the horror that a-awaited m-me almost d-d-destroyed m-me. The . . . The stench of . . . of death hung heavy on the air. Th-the wagons were burnt. All was destroyed!

"N-Not a soul was left a-alive. A-All . . . All had arrows in their hearts, including the b-beautiful horses my Grandfather had raised! M-My lovely Sheharizard lay with . . . with her eyes open, b-but her soul was g-gone! N-Nothing . . . N-No . . . No one was a-a-alive when I walked into our camp. M-m-m-m-m-my . . . My b-b-beautiful Gr-Gran-Grandmother l-lay d-dead. Her . . . Her e-eyes were o-open t-to t-th-the h-h-heav-eavens, t-too. N-Never more would she l-look at me with e-eyes of l-love!

"I s-s-sc-creamed o-out m-my p-pain as . . . I f-fell t-to m-my knees b-beside her, cr-cry-ying o-out her n-name. I v-vowed re-revenge o-on t-the o-ones w-who k-killed m-my f-fam-family!" He shook his head miserably, slinging his long hair and hot tears with abandonment. "I-I c-couldn't b-bury th-them a-all so . . . so I b-burned th-them t-to a-ash-shes and l-let th-the w-winds s-scatter th-them."

Neither Hansel nor Jack knew how long Hansel held and rocked Jack before he spoke again. "I . . . I kn-know m-my Gran-Grandparents are together just as I know the evil ones continue to hunt me. They . . . They found m-me last night and would have k-killed m-me if you had not saved me, b-but n-now they will be after you too, beloved."

"Th-Thank you again for s-saving me........ I . . . I do not deserve to live when their deaths upon my head, b-but I . . . I d-don't want to die! N-Not any more . . . N-Not n-now that I have found you!

"I . . . I should leave and draw them away from you before they find me again. It . . . It's not safe for me to be here, . . . not safe for you or your people. I . . . I th-thought to l-leave and draw their attentions upon me, not telling you, l-letting you think I was a no-good skunk, but wh-when I f-fell for you, I couldn't!" Jack's dark eyes gazed pleadingly into Hansel's baby blues through the tears that marred his vision. "I . . . I don't want you to hate me! I . . . I wish things were different and I wish we had a lifetime together, but we only have a few days together. Tell me to go, and I will." Jack began to sing a song just for Hansel, trying to tell him of all his feelings and hoping that he would not send him away..............

_If you go away on this summer day then you might as well take the sun away  
All the birds that flew in the summer sky  
When our love was new and our hearts were high  
When the day was young and the nights were long  
And the moon stood still for the night bird's song  
If you go away if you go away if you go away  
But if you'll stay I'll make you a day like no day has been or will be again  
We'll sail the sun we'll glide on the rain we'll talk to the trees and worship the wind  
Then if you go I'll understand leave me just enough love to fill up my hand  
If you go away if you go away if you go away  
If you go away as I know you will you must tell the world to stop turning  
Till you return again if you ever do for what good is love without loving you  
Can I tell you now as you turn to go I'll be dying slow to the next hello  
If you go away if you go away if you go away  
If you go away as I know you might there'll be nothing left in the world to trust  
Just an empty room full of empty space like the empty look I see on your face  
I have been the shadow of your shadow  
If I thought it might have kept me by your side  
If you go away if you go away if you go away  
But if you'll stay I'll make you a night like no night has been or will be again  
I'll sail on your smile I'll glide on your touch I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much  
But if you go I know I will cry and all the good is gone from the words goodbye  
If you go away if you go away if you go away please don't go away _

His heart prayed to Kali for a safe delivery for Hansel and his people and a brighter future for them, one that he was a part of...........

Somehow, while they had been talking, Hansel had worked his way around into holding Jack in his arms, rather than Jack holding him. He took deep, steadying breaths as all the information sank in and did as he had been taught so long ago to do when seeking advice. He listened to the wind whistling outside the teepee and the voices he could hear within them, but moreover he listened to his heart.

This wonderful, incredible man who had loved him better and gentler than he'd ever been loved in his entire life, this sweet, roaming Gypsy who only longed to be loved again, had shown him more love and care than he'd felt in years and taught him more in the length of a single day and night than any one else possibly could have in years. Faith had argued with him endlessly when Derek had first began to pull him away from their people, but Jack had returned him to his family and freed him of the bonds he would never have realized chained him if not for Jack's loving.

He wanted to stay with his people; he had vowed not to leave them again. Yet there was a greater love calling to him now and a greater passion flowing through his veins than he'd ever felt before. Would Faith understand? Would his betrayal of the promise he'd made cause him to lose his sister for good? What of his people? They had been so ready to welcome both Jack and himself. If they knew of what was coming . . . If they even suspected what his sweetheart's presence brought to them, would they still feel the same?

It didn't matter, Hansel knew. He loved them, especially Faith, but he loved Jack too. There was much that Jack had told him wherein he had been wrong, but he could discuss that with him after they had made certain his people were safe. Sometimes love meant having to let go. He had thought he'd learned that lesson long ago, but it was not as he'd thought it then. It didn't mean having to let go of one love for another; it meant, instead, releasing those one loved to keep them safe.

"Jack," his hushed voice finally broke the silence some time after Jack had finished singing the sad song that his bewitching voice somehow managed to make sensual despite the sadness, "I don't know if I know what love is, but I do know that what I feel for you is far stronger than what I thought love was. As I said earlier, I did think I loved Derek, but you showed me today that I didn't. I'd like to say I love you. I know it would be really easy, but I'm not sure of what love is any more, at least not that kind of love."

He turned so that he could look into his dark eyes. "I do know that I love you at least in some way, if not in _the_ way. You make me feel more loved and more complete than I've felt in years," he shook his head slightly, "than I'd giving up thinking I would ever feel."

"And you're wrong about many things, most of all about blaming yourself for your people's deaths. I know right now you're not ready to hear me out on that, but consider this for just a moment. You did not make your grandfather do what was right. You did not bring the danger of that bitch to your friend or to your family. You were only a boy, playing as children do, and never asked for such heartache, pain, and terror . . . "

"I probably can't bring an end to that," he said sadly with another shake of his blonde head, "but I'd like to try. No matter what, though, you're not getting rid of me. You are leaving," he continued, "but you're not leaving alone. I'm not letting you. If you leave me, I'll follow. You've seen how I can talk to the horses. I may not be able to follow your scent, but they can. If you try to sneak away, I'll find you still, and if I'm not in time, I might as well be dead for you breathed new life into this heart of mine today."

He looked imploringly into his eyes. "Please don't take it away. Please don't try to leave me or take your love away. I don't want to feel like I did before, so empty and knowing nothing, really, but pain and heartache. I may have saved you last night, but you saved me today."

Tears shimmered in his blue eyes, and he reached up to brush some more tears out of Jack's eyes, as he'd been doing for a while. His love had tried not to cry while talking about his past and the loss of his family, but his resolve had crumpled with the painful memories and Hansel had held him the whole time while he cried. Now Hansel knew that he wanted to do more than just hold him for a few minutes. He wanted to hold him close to him, body, heart, and soul, forever.

"I don't want to take you away from your people," Jack told him, "but I don't want to lose any of them nor am I willing to do the right thing and leave you behind. Our hearts have spoken. Now our bodies must entwine for we need each other to renew our strength and be able to carry on."

"Do not leave your people behind without an explanation. We might not ever be able to return. I don't want them to be blinded to the truth, nor to be destroyed by those who seek me. They must know of your love for them. You must tell them in the morning before we go . . . "

"Thank you for choosing me as I choose you." He pulled Hansel's face closer as his lips sought his. Abandoning his self-imposed restraints, Jack allowed all the love he was feeling to flow into that kiss . . .

Hansel knew he should argue for he could never leave his people behind with them knowing that there was an evil chasing after Jack and he would be with Jack and, therefore, be chased by that same evil, but then Jack kissed him. He started to pull back, and Jack deepened the kiss. He moaned; his hands returned to his face. He stroked him softly, and Jack touched his tongue to his.

He moaned a second time, letting his mouth open and his tongue greet Jack's, and as Jack's tongue swept into his mouth, twisting against and twining with his own, Hansel knew he was gone. He could not argue now; that would have to wait. He sighed into Jack's mouth, letting go and reveling in the emotions only he had ever made him feel so vividly . . .

**To Be Continued . . . **


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Bishop sat at the front of his stables, his dark eyes constantly darting back and forth between the front doors and the gaping hole his quick reaction earlier had made in the back wall. His skin still crawled from the strange battle with the ants and anticipation. He knew they were out there. They were probably watching him even now. Which ones? he asked himself. The weird creatures from before who had been intent upon eating his horses or the ants and the strange man who had accompanied them, the man who, if he had not known better, he would have thought had called them himself?

Knowing his luck, they were probably both out there in the nearest shadows, lurking, watching him, and waiting for him to just blink one time. That would be all it took: one blink, and they would be all over him. One blink, and he was as good as dead. Yet Bishop had been up since day break, caring for his horses, and was thoroughly exhausted, and so it was that his eyes drifted slowly closed . . .

The door swung open. His brown eyes flew open, and his arm went up, his finger instantly squeezing the trigger. Cat yowled and finally moved from Bishop's head, where he had had his claws dug in ever since the ants had first started coming. He sprang onto his muscular arm, dug his claws in, and forced his shot to miss. The bullet exploded in the ground barely a foot away from Bishop's booted feet.

"Cat, what the Hell did ya do that for?!" Bishop demanded, but then, as the gravel settled, he saw the reason why. A tabby cat stood in the doorway, his green eyes wide with fear, and Bishop sighed as he lowered his gun. "Reckon it was a good thing ya did, little partner," he muttered to which Cat mewed.

The tabby cat who stood in the doorway with his fur fluffed completely out yowled his disdain. Bishop rolled his muscular shoulders in an apologetic shrug. "Sorry," he told him. "Maybe next time you should knock."

He felt eyes boring into his back and retightened his grip on his gun but did not yet turn to meet the being who was looking at him. Instead he watched over the cats as Cat padded over to meet his visitor, rubbed against him, ran the tip of his tail underneath his dark pink nose, mewled once more, and then raced out into the night. The tabby gave immediate chase.

Left alone, Bishop turned around to see who was watching him and found the annoying donkey eyeballing him again. "Don't you start," he growled. "Go back to your oats." He sank back down onto his bale of hay with a yawn that was almost as big as he was. "Damn full moons. Either they make ya horny as Hell or they drive ya insane with the critters from Hell."

* * *

Hansel woke to find Jack still nestled inside his arms. He brushed his lips against his sweet Gypsy's forehead as he thought again of how much pain his love had suffered. He had been through so much, none of it his own doing though he blamed himself for all of it, and Hansel ached for him. He would do anything he could to assuage his heartache, but he knew he could never return his people to him or stop him from hurting from their loss.

What he could do, Hansel reflected, was keep Jack from ever having to feel more pain. That would begin tonight. He didn't know what they were going to do, where they were going to go, or how they were going to defeat the enemies that haunted his poor love's every moment, but they would find a way. The Gods would provide. They could not be so cruel as to lead Jack into his life and then steal him away or, worse still, give him back his life, make his world brighter than it ever had been before for Jack's shining light, and then rip it all apart.

Not that he didn't deserve it for abandoning his people, but the Gods were not cruel. It was mankind who was cruel and then turned around to blame the Gods they considered to be heathen for all their worries. They twisted them into Demons and their Devil, but Hansel knew that They were far from what any of that which the white man tried to make them. Man chose his own pathway, and it was the white men who were constantly sending evil into the world. It was the white man who had stolen his life and his world not once, Hansel thought, but twice. That wasn't entirely true, he corrected himself almost immediately, for Derek had not forced him to go with him. He had chosen to go with him, and that had been the worst mistake of his life.

But it was a mistake he had learned from, with Jack's wonderful teachings, and a mistake he would never make again. He had to leave this time, but he would be back. When he did return, he would bring Jack with him, and the evil would be gone from both their lives forever. He reaffirmed his silent promise to rid his love of the horrors that haunted him and to make certain that, once they had defeated them, he would know nothing but love and happiness as he gently kissed his lips before rising and dressing in the first outfit of Faith's that he could find.

Then he slipped from the teepee in search of the one man who he knew would understand his situation and not speak a word of it. He knew he could trust Bobby with his life, and that his friend would understand that sometimes, no matter how much he wished otherwise, a man had to do things he didn't want to do to protect those he loved . . .

* * *

It had been quiet for some time now. Prue pulled herself together and crawled out from under the bed, fearful at what she might find. Creeping along the wall, making not a sound, she finally reached the door, pulled it slightly ajar, and peeked out the small hole. She saw no one, but the room had been totally torn apart.

The door behind which the howling creature had been kept swung soundlessly back and forth, and Prue moved toward it hesitantly. She could not hear anything; even the animals outside were silent with fear. She peered into the darkness. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust, but once they had, she still did not see any one moving about. There was something metal hanging on the wall, and broken chains littered the floor. Almost in the middle of the room, she saw a crumpled, blue heap of something. She knew not what it could be for the blue man she'd seen before was far too big to make such a small ball, or so she thought.

The front door hung brokenly, swinging in the night air and making a slight scraping sound where it touched the wall. She made a run for it and peered outward . . . The darkness seemed threatening, but the air smelled fresh. Yet it was almost as if the night itself held its breath . . . waiting!!!!!!!!

Prue paused in the doorway. Part of her was tempted to run all the way back to her people, but she had to have Dr. Richards if they were to be saved. She returned to the room where the howling beast had been chained and moved slowly down the staircase. Her hand slid against the cool metal of the railing as she descended, looking cautiously about and expecting to be attacked with every step. Nothing loomed out of the shadows at her, however, and she was soon upon even footing again.

Her gaze turned to the mound of blue fur crumpled upon the floor, and she realized that it was the spirit she had seen earlier. She moved over to the blue, fuzzy creature, who lay so still on the floor, and touched him with her foot gently. He rolled slightly but did not otherwise respond.

Who or what was he, she wondered, and how did he know her? He'd called her by name; she'd heard him clearly. He was intelligent and capable of human speech, and he knew her. Maybe Doctor Richards had made him more intelligent and he was some kind of pet? In puzzlement, she peered more closely at him . . .

The big, muscular male lay in a heap of mangled fur that barely moved when the young Indian woman touched him with her foot, but as she leaned closer for further investigation, he moaned. "Brendan?" he groaned. "Son?" Then his blue eyes snapped open, and they glowed with a feral intensity. "SON!" he howled as he flipped to his feet. "MY SON! THEY TOOK MY SON!" His fangs glistened, and his muscles heaved. Yet in his eyes was the look of a terrified person who'd just had their whole world stolen away and felt as though all their hopes had gone with it.

Prue almost screamed when the furry blue monster had jumped to his feet, but when more intelligent words came out of his mouth, she stared at him in shock, not fully comprehending who he was nor who his son could possibly be. "They took a man wolf," she confirmed his words. "Who are you, and where is Dr. Richards?" She had to find him and soon, lest her people all died!

He stared at her as his mind slowly calmed its racing and he realized who stood before him. She had been so much smaller the last time he had seen her, but now she was a grown woman. He smiled sadly at the memory of the child chasing his son and the wild mustangs with a single braid flapping against her back. His hand arched, his long claws glistening in the light of the full moon. He wanted to touch her face to assure himself that she was real, but he dropped his hand back to his furry side for he knew the mere thought of a monster like himself touching her would terrify the poor girl.

His eyes grew even sadder as her questions told him that she truly did not recognize him in his new form. He should take gratification from that, however, for at least it meant the others of her tribe would be safe and secured from the knowledge that she would have otherwise gained. "How vain, without the merit, is the name." He tried to smile reassuringly at her but hadn't the heart for it.

"Dear child, my character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied." He gave himself a mental shake for he knew the usage of the wrong quote had caused him to say too much. "Go home, Prudence. Doctor Richards is unavailable and may well never be available again."

He was wasting time, he knew it. He had to be off after those accursed Trolls. He had to save his son! "Go home," he spoke again, snarling the words before he could stop himself, and strode pass her and out the open door. He stood on the porch, his head thrown back, as he sniffed the night wind.

Prue ran out the door behind him. "I can't go home without him!" She screamed out her tale of woe, "My people are sick and dying! Only he can save them! Tell me where he is, please, and I will go there!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

Something about his voice triggered memories long buried. She remembered a sunny day and playing with a young boy and a pony, but the man remained shadowy even though she could hear him talking to her Mother. Who was he, she wondered, and what had happened to him? It was so long ago, and yet only yesterday........

He looked at her with tears shimmering in her eyes as his heart ached for the loss of her people, all whom he had once considered amongst his closest friends. "I am sorry, Prudence. Truly I am more than you can ever possibly know, . . . but there is naught that can be done to reach Brendan tonight for they have taken him and I must find him. Should I be successful, we will come to do what we can to save your people. Until then, my child, all I can do is bid you to pray to your Goddess to help us all." He bounded off of the porch.

"Wait!" she called after him, but he was gone and only the wind answered her . . . She had no choice but to return home and pray for their deliverance. She began to run and then had to slow to a walk, wishing to be home so that she could at least touch her Mother. Prayers kept tumbling from her lips not only for her people but for the strange, blue man to find his son and for the safe return of Dr. Richards. This would be a long terrible night for all of them, and dawn seemed a million lifetimes away.........

* * *

Jack felt the coldness of the bed almost as soon as Hansel left it. He figured that he had to answer the call of nature and would return soon. He stretched for a moment and then rolled in the place where Hansel had lain, wanting to get his smell all over him before he returned to sleep. His beloved smelled of honey and a wilder scent that he couldn't name. Just the smell of him made Jack hard. He didn't understand why, and he didn't ponder it long before he fell back asleep.

He hadn't been asleep long when he felt a million eyes staring at him. The sensation brought him immediately awake just in time to avoid being hit with a staff. He rolled out of the bed and to a crouching position, "Why'd you do that?" he asked the painted face that stared back at him.

The Indian, who was dressed in complete headdress, shook his staff at him. The staff's feathers rustled in warning. The empty eye sockets of the bull's skull that topped the staff seemed almost to glow at Jack as they sent chills sweeping down his spine. He was surprised to find that the being answered him in perfect English!

"I wanted to get your attention. Now that I have it, you will listen first, and then, if there is time before he returns, ask your questions. I have had a vision of you for quite some time. I only now am beginning to understand some of it. You are pursued by a relentless enemy that kills most of the unfortunate souls that fall into its path. Humans, animals, they are all the same to him.

"Even as we speak, he has gained the one you sought. He holds many captives. As long as they bring pleasure to his mistress, they live. They are tortured beyond forbearance but not yet to the point of death.

"I would have had you having stayed away from my son. but that could never have been as your destinies are entwined. You have taken from each other and will continue to do so for your incessant mating has pleased the Gods. They have decreed that you will give sustenance to each other and new life to each other. You will cause each other to live out the glorious paths that destiny has decreed, but you are not soul mates!

"When the time comes that you meet them, you will find that you will love them more than you do each other now. Hansel has returned to his right path, and although he will go with you now, he will return one day to be a great leader amongst our people. His soul mate is not of the people, but his heart is in the right place. Yours comes from the sea.

"More than that, They will not show me. I send my blessings upon the two of you to help you in your quest. Return when you feel it safe, and I will keep you in my prayers."

Sometime during the talk, Jack had sat down upon the floor; he had stared at but listened to the Shaman. He was surprised that the man did not hate him.

"Do you have questions, my friend?"

Jack's mind was a jumble, but the biggest questions he desperately needed to know came out rather quickly, "Has my being here brought death to your people? Will Hansel come to hate me if he comes with me? Will he be hurt by my enemy?"

"We will move to our other camp this morning, and I will cover our traces. It will be as if we had never been. Hansel and you will never hate each other. For now, you are each other's very breath. When you are both healed, you will be like brothers."

Jack shook his head, "That can never be for I would never want to mate with my brother and I can't imagine a time I will ever look at him and not burn for his touch!"

The Shaman looked at Jack. "We shall see what the future holds. Be prepared for not only will Hansel be taken, but so shall his sister. Be strong, and you shall overcome. Tell no one of our meeting."

The Shaman rose to his full height. "I must seek my son and give him my blessings."

Jack knelt before him, heedless to his nakedness, and did not rise until the Shaman was gone, though his mind swirled around the truths he had been given. He had shown him respect but still seriously doubted his words for surely no one could take Faith. He dressed and went out into the cold night seeking his beloved.

* * *

Donkey began to chew his oats rather noisily. The durn fool man was a pretty good owner, but, most of the time, rather stupid. He never mistreated him and never scrimped on the food; he was even known to have patted a few of the other animals. Donkey could read his mind but couldn't talk freely to him, because he never wanted to cause another scene like that that had happened in Waco.

The authorities had been seeking him for quite some time now, but he had never talked where humans could hear him since that time. Here he felt safe. He had it pretty comfortable and all the food he wanted, but he knew he had to help this big, lumbering oaf get a grip on reality before he blew some innocent life away.

He felt Big B doze, and as he moved ever closer to sleep, Donkey prepared to speak to him . . . A snore interrupted Donkey's thoughts, and he got Big B in his sights even as he placed his voice near his ear and began to speak, creating visual images to go with his words . . .

"The man calls himself ADDAMM, and he calls the ants. He is their King." Big B brushed at his ears as though a gnat disturbed him. He mumbled the name almost caressingly. "Addamm!!!!!!!!!!!!!" A big grin lit Donkey's face as he thought to himself, {This is gonna be fun . . . Big B already wants him!!!!!!!}

* * *

Cole felt the urgency in the air and wanted desperately to send out his senses to find out what was going on but knew he couldn't because it would draw unwanted attention. Approaching his darkened house, he knew something was wrong..... Carl should have been there, but there were no lights to be seen. He couldn't smell the Gnome anywhere on the property. Where had the little runt gone this time, or, as was more likely, what kind of mess had he gotten into this time?

"Piper," he called, "hold up a minute. Carl should be here, and he never goes to bed this early." {It could be a trap!} He laid the trunks he had been carrying on the rocker on his front porch. Even as he stood up and moved toward the front door, an arrow came flying out of the darkness, striking the spot he had just been standing in. If he had been even one second slower, it would have flown straight through his heart.

He opened the door, giving the ladies room to rush into the darkened house. He hoped that they had not seen the arrow. Walking quickly around the room, he lit the lamps before returning for the trunks. As he watched the still quivering arrow, he saw it pull itself free of the wood and return into the darkness from whence it came.

He sniffed the air disdainfully as he realized the smell of Demon came from the hole in the wall that the arrow had made. What demon had finally caught up to him he knew not. It probably also had Carl. He walked slowly back into the house, knowing that he was now under attack and that the ladies were in danger because of his presence. He had wanted Carl to watch over the house and keep them safe. He also realized that he would have to leave, because it was his presence alone that endangered them.

He couldn't leave them unguarded for long, so he would have to handle the situation that night. They were better off not knowing, and so he returned inside to tell them good night only to have Piper staring at him with widened eyes. He wanted to brush his hands over his forehead to make sure his horns had not come out! "What's wrong?" he asked with a smile he did not feel on his face.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? he asks?!" Paige exclaimed. All three women wore paled faces, and Dawn clung to Piper's arms, her fingernails digging unconsciously into the older woman's face.

"Paige," Piper snapped, bringing control to herself as she did only in rare occasions when she saw no other safe recourse, "that is enough. Go find your room, and take Dawnie with you."

"B-But, Piper!"

Salem's tail swished through the air. He looked up at Dawn, who had carried him ever since talking Elvira into giving him to her. "The lady is right, children. It's time for bed." His mouth was open in the beginnings of a yawn when Dawn and Paige screeched and Dawn dropped him.

Salem landed on his paws and licked his front right paw. "Women!" he bemoaned. "Why is that so oft their reaction?"

Piper turned to face Dawn. "Dawnie," she said, her tone gentle but firm, as she caressed the girl's face as a mother would reassuringly touch her child, "everything will be fine in the morning. Go with Paige, and go to bed please."

"Hey! How come she gets a please, and I don't?"

"Paige!" Piper barked, her eyes cutting at her little sister and telling her, in no uncertain terms, that she was in no mood for her backtalk.

Paige sulked. "Fine." She grabbed Dawn's hand and led the girl further into the house. Dawn had finally silent but still looked at Cole with eyes huge and fearful.

Piper sighed, glanced at Salem, shook her head in wonder, and then turned to meet Cole. Whereas her tone with the girls had left no room for argument, she was still shy when speaking to him. Hesitantly, she asked, "Cole . . . Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Ooo, boy! I ain't touching that one!" Salem exclaimed. He walked off into the darkness, his long, ebony tail swishing from side to side. In the shadows, he sat and watched them, his green eyes glowing in the dark.

Cole smiled apologetically at Piper. {It figures that they all saw it.} "I have enemies. Some of them bad enough they want me dead no matter how they accomplish it. They won't want you, and once they see me leave, you will be quite safe."

"I'm sorry that all of you saw it. Hope you won't let that little disturbance color your stay here. I'll leave right away as soon as you tell me good night. I'll be at the store. If you need anything, send one of the girls." He stood patiently in front of her, not sure whether he should touch her or not........

She gazed up into his eyes and marveled. What kind of a life had this kind and gentle man led that he should have enemies so great that they wanted to kill him and already come so close to doing so? She should send him on his way, she knew, so that Paige and Dawn would be safe, but she would not endanger him. Besides, were it not for him, Dawn would already be in danger, and she and Paige might never have known again what freedom was like.

She stepped closer to him, her eyes not moving from his. She trembled inside as she allowed herself to raise a hand to his cheek and gently touch him. The memory of the amazing kiss they had shared still burned her insides. Never before had she felt like a wanton woman, but he made her feel both wanton and a lady.

He made her feel many things, including cared for and protected in a way she had not known since she had been a very young child. She knew it was absurd, yet she felt like she had known him for years. Her voice was quiet as she spoke, "Then I shan't tell you good night."

* * *

"Wait!" Her pleas rang in his pointed ears as he ran through the forest, following the scents of the Trolls and his son and doubting his actions with every step. Should he have fought him? Had he stayed conscious, he might have been able to prevent the Trolls from taking him, but the mere thought of having to strike his beloved baby boy had so torn his heart asunder that one blow from the Werewolf's claws had knocked him clean out.

He'd not had to fight his son, but now Hank was left to wonder if what he had done had been the right choice to make. He knew who the Trolls were. Perhaps he did not know them by name and had never seen them before, but still he knew who they were. They were the evil ones that the Sorceress had sent out to claim his son. Though she'd only had his child in her wicked clutches for a short time, Brendan still had nightmares about the things she had done to him and tried to force him to do, and Hank had been sworn to protect him. He had failed.

And he had failed Ororo and her people for they lay dying. He'd not even asked Prudence how long they had, but what did it matter when he had to find his son? And what would Brendan think of his father now, his father who had failed to protect him and then turned his lowly back on the only friends who might not have ran screaming away from him if they had known that the monstrous, blue beast was truly him?

If Ororo was alive, she would have been able to help him find Brendan and fight the Trolls and whatever else might have come with them. She would have been, but she would have to have time to gather her strength. It was truly a sad and sorrowful fact, but he had no time to waste. For all he knew, the Trolls could be delivering his sweet, innocent child into the Sorceress' hands even now. He howled his rage and then Brendan's name as he ran through the forest.

* * *

Bobby looked up, his dazed, brown eyes full of questions. "Thought you said this thing'd help me forget my worries?" he asked Vin. His voice slurred as he weaved slightly upon his rock.

The cowboy nodded. "Yeah."

Bobby threw the peace pipe at him, but Vin caught it deftly before it could lower toward the ground. "I just heard him."

"Heard who?" Vin, too, had been listening to the sounds of the night, but all he had heard was howls.

"Don' matter." Bobby hiccupped. "Ya wouldn't understand." He stood up and walked away from the fire.

Vin frowned as he watched the young man go. He handed the peace pipe to the Indian sitting beside him and took a moment to explain that Bobby was grieving and ask for forgiveness for his recklessness before standing and striding after him. He had not gone far, however, when he saw the man called Hansel walk out of his teepee and encounter Bobby. The blonde's arms went quickly around the brunette, and Vin thought better of disturbing the two. Instead he turned and headed back for another slab of meat.

* * *

Sean continued following Thunder, hoping that his owner was alive and that his Deputies were too. His mind wandered back to Emma, Queen of his heart, wishing that he could get her out of the business and into his bed on a full time basis. He admonished himself for having given her his departure when he would have much rather given her his love.

What did a small time Sheriff have to offer a Queen like her? {Nae a t'ing,} he answered his own question, but still they could have one night of passion that he would make sure she never forgot. He shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts, when he noticed for the first time the direction Tornado had taken......... He was heading in the direction of one of the Indian villages, probably the same one the child had been rescued belonged to! Bracing himself for the worst upon reaching the camp, he rode right in .....

* * *

A little sigh of contentment escaped Faith's lips as she rode along with Dawson's arms wrapped around her and Tornado frolicking between their legs. Her brother was home at last, and she had been loved good most of the night. She hadn't been this satisfied in a long while, but even as she made that silent admission, she realized that that meant trouble was right around the next bend.

She shrugged, enjoying the feel of her bare shoulders sliding up against Dawson's naked chest. Whatever came in tomorrow, she could handle it. Had she not proven herself over the years? Had she not always defeated every pissed-off mountain of a man she'd ever gone up against? Had she not given the white people back a good deal of the pain and suffering they had visited on her people? And yet she was with a white man now.

What was it about this man that intrigued her so? she wondered yet again. He was handsome, but good looks had never been enough to keep her interested beyond one roll in the hay. They'd already done it so many times that even she was beginning to lose track, but yet she wasn't ready to kick him to the side. And he was white! She shouldn't even be with him! She should have gotten what she could out of him and left his pale ass shining in the moonlight with nothing to his name.

But she hadn't, and she didn't want to. What was wrong with her? What were these feelings that kept bubbling within her spirit and -- dare she say it? -- her heart? She'd never spent so much time with one man before in all her life -- well, at least not in the same manner. There had been her brothers, of course, and Vin, who'd turned out to be a really good friend, but never before had she spent so much time with . . . What would she call Dawson? He was definitely more than just a fuck.

As she marveled over the strange sensations that Dawson somehow had the power to make her feel with but a touch of his hand upon her flesh, Faith failed to hear the stirrings of the brush as Tornado came to a pause. It was his disturbance that brought her to attention, instead, as she felt him quiver beneath them. She reached out and stroked a hand down his long, sleek neck. "What's a matter, boy?"

And then she knew. "Damn!" she hissed, freeing herself in one fluid movement from Dawson's arms. She was prepared to jump off of Tornado when something barreled into her. She fell off to the side with the growling, furry creature on top of her. The scent of him assailed her nostrils as she kicked up and threw punches, trying unsuccessfully to knock him off.

"They said ya were a feisty one, girl." His claws slashed her face, and her blood splashed onto both of them. He paused to lick it off of his long claws that shone in the moonlight, and Faith screamed.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

"Piper, I have to leave and soon; if I don't, I won't be able to keep myself from doing this . . . " And Cole leaned forward and kissed her firmly yet gently. "That could lead to other things best not thought of right now. I was never planning on staying in the house with you, my beautiful siren. Not without legality. I will not turn you into a wanton woman and the talk of the town. My Mother was, gods rest her soul. She never recovered from it."

"You are my lady and the Queen of my house! If such time comes as I am free to claim your hand, I will do so if you still want me, but I can't ... I am not worthy of your love. But I will be one day!" He released her and backed up toward the door...

She was still trembling inside from the power of his kiss and the pleasure that swept through her, igniting her very soul in flame, as he retreated. His words caressed her ears and made her mind spin, but at the same time, the thought that stepping out the door would endanger him demanded her attention. "Cole," she spoke, "please don't go."

Her hands itched, and she contemplated the possibility. She still didn't have her power under control and used it very rarely, but if it was the only way to keep him safe . . . She would, she decided. She felt like he had given her the whole world; the very least she could do was to keep him safe in return.

"Piper, I am quite safe for tonight. Whoever it was is long gone, po'ed because he missed. He will lick his wounds and then return at another time to try it again when I least expect it." He would have to delay his shopping trip until he had caught the culprit.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart?" His back against the door, he waited for Piper to release him.

Piper breathed deeply as she scrutinized Cole's face in an effort to determine whether or not he truly believed what he was saying. "How can you be so sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"It's not the first time I've ever been shot at and won't be the last. It's what they always do: regroup and try again. I have to get to him before he gets to me and try to dissuade him from his ambitions."

Piper's eyes shot wide, and her hands shot up, as they often did when she found herself not knowing which way to turn, freezing Cole in place. "My Gods, the man's insane!" She started pacing back and forth, her skirts swishing around her legs. What was she going to do? She couldn't let him go out there and put his neck on the line! She could not just stand idly by and allow the man who had rescued herself, her sister, and another innocent child who might as well be her sister, especially with Phoebe's betrayal . . .

Betrayal? She paused, then whirled again and continued her pacing. Did she really feel like Phoebe had betrayed them? Yes, she had. She had betrayed her raising. She had betrayed the beliefs that their mother and grandmother had struggled so hard to instill in them. She had betrayed her very sense of family by refusing to come with them tonight and betrayed herself by persisting in being a wanton who . . . No, Piper told herself sternly, she would not scoop to Phoebe's level and use such dirty language!

She turned again and caught sight of Cole out of the corners of her brown eyes. Phoebe was not the focus of her concerns right now, however. She had to focus on Cole and figure out what to do about this mess! Perhaps she should check and see if they were gone? Could she tell? She should be able to tell better than a mortal could, at any rate.

Piper edged carefully past Cole and out the front door. She had barely stepped onto the porch when another arrow zipped her way. She screamed as it hit the wall next to her and ducked back inside just as Cole unfroze.

* * *

The look Bobby saw in Hansel's eyes brought him instantly to a more sober state for he feared what was coming. Derek had been beating him again! No, wait, he told himself, Derek couldn't have been beating him. Derek never came to the Indian village. He considered the Indians to be mere savages and far beneath him. Bobby snorted at that thought. The Indians were good people. It was Derek who was far beneath their feet, though he doubted they'd ever act like it.

He grinned. They would probably like to visit a thousand punishments upon his worthless hide, however. He himself ached to be able to do the same for all the times that he had made Hansel cry . . . But why was Hansel fighting tears now, when Derek was nowhere around and he had a new man at long last? Bobby bristled. Had Jack hit him? But, no, he didn't see any marks upon his friend's handsome face, and he couldn't imagine the sweet Gypsy having an ugly brute side to him . . . So just what was troubling Hansel so?

Bobby started to walk closer to Hansel and stumbled. His friend reached him before he could fall, however; wrapped his arms around him; and pulled him up. "Bobby," Hansel spoke, looking deep into his troubled eyes, "we need to talk. Tell me you haven't been drinking."

"Nope." Bobby shook his head and fought down another hiccup. "No drink."

Hansel offered him a half-grin. "The peace pipe?"

Bobby bounced his head up and down. "Yup! Vin said it would take away my problems." He shook his head dismally. "I told him it wouldn't work." His eyes grew big as he looked into Hansel's face. "I heard him!"

"You heard who?"

"Hank!"

Hansel caressed Bobby's shoulder as he looked at him in great concern. "Bobby, you know he's gone . . . "

"I know!" Bobby wailed, throwing his arms up into the air. "But he haunts me every day! Hey, maybe that's it!" He looked in serious inquisition to Hansel. "Does the peace pipe let you hear the dead?"

* * *

Piper moved so fast that she fell into his arms, but even as he caught her, the girls came running back into the room.

"Piper!" Paige cried.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked.

"Why did you scream?"

"Scream?" Piper's smile wavered, and she hoped that she appeared innocent.

Salem watched the scene unfolding before him through a gaze that could not possibly have been more intent. Had he had a human face, his eyebrows would have been raised. That settled it then, he thought. The woman was as he had expected - a Witch! He cleared his throat and slunk out from hiding with the prideful strike of the cat he was. "Cole," he spoke, clearing his voice, "I think it best you stay here for the night. The girls might need you."

"He spoke again," Dawn whispered, her face paling once more.

Piper dared to sneak a glance at Cole. Did he buy her innocence, or did he expect something?

"The cat can speak, Dawnie," Paige commented, watching her sister carefully. "I think we've all already agreed on that fact." Dawn shot her a look, but Paige's gaze remained on Piper. She had been able to tell for years when her sister was hiding something. She was definitely acting like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, which was hard for any one to tell with Piper. Paige suspected that it had nothing to do with Cole this time but yet could not figure out, for the life of her, just what Piper had been doing that she shouldn't have . . .

Cole looked at Salem. "What just happened? Did you do something?"

"Not I," he replied with a swish of his tail and a lion's grin.

* * *

Tornado had stood still with Dawson upon his back, his heart beating frantically as his mistress was attacked, but as her commanding scream reached his ears, he knew what he had to do. Although his very soul was screeching at him to help her fight, he turned tail and galloped off into the distance, moving so swiftly that all Dawson could do was hold on.

Faith's knee shoved into the creature's groin, and she realized, from the tender flesh she felt there, that he was no Werecreature despite the fur that covered his body. He was a man. She grinned as she told him, "Feisty don't begin to cover it, asshole." Her hands struck his chest, but she received hardly any greater reaction than the "oomph" that had broken from his lips when she'd nailed his groin.

"I like 'em feisty," he said, grinning down at her. The light of the full moon made his green eyes and long, dangerous claws appear to glow as he pulled his fists back and moved again upon her face. One set of claws connected, raking flesh from her forehead, but she moved swiftly and bit his wrist hard before his other set could connect.

He growled as she banged his groin with her knee again and once more tried to throw him off. His knee slammed into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her, and he caught her struggling hands within one massive hand that looked, from his costume, more like a paw. "Don't tempt me, girlie. They said they didn't care if ya were alive or dead."

Another damn bounty hunter, the thought raced through her mind as she struggled to break free. His skin and bones might as well have been made from rock for all the good her struggles did her. Then, in the distance, she heard Tornado whinny, and her eyes widened.

"Boy comin' back fer ya, darlin'?" the man snarled, his fangs glistening. "They didn't say anythin' 'bout a companion. 'Least not fer some years. Yeah, I been on yer trail a while. Been waitin' fer th' right time t' strike. Knew yer defenses would get down sooner or later." He grinned at her. "That was some show on yer pony's back."

Heat flooded her face, but it was not embarrassment. Anger flushed through her. He'd been watching her the whole damned time, and she hadn't realized it! She struggled harder but still could not break free.

* * *

Cole looked at Piper. He had suspected it, but now it was confirmed... His sweetie was a Witch! He wondered how advanced she was. "Piper, why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked, smiling sweetly and praying he'd let her slip. He couldn't possibly know what she had done . . . Could he? Of course he couldn't! He was only a mere, mortal human with a heart of gold and more weight than he should have to carry on those deliciously strong shoulders! She felt like waving herself at the latter thought. Dear Gods, she was starting to think like Phoebe!

"Go out that door and almost get your head shot off? How did you get past me to get there in the first place?"

Paige's and Dawn's mouths fell open. Piper could feel their eyes burning into her head. Her sweet smile wavered slightly, but she forced it to stay in place. She didn't want to lie to Cole, but she couldn't reveal the truth in front of the children. She couldn't tell him either, she reminded herself sternly, for he'd surely toss them right back out. Blanche would not have them back, and they'd be homeless. "Cole, sweetheart, how would I have gotten outside without you knowing how I would have done so with you standing right in front of the door?" She was glad it was not an actual lie and hoped she would not have to choose between lying and turning Cole and Dawn both against her and causing Paige untold hardships.

"That's what I just asked you, sweetheart?" He was not prone to imagining things. He knew she had done something, but he wasn't about to make her admit what in front of the girls. "I thought you went to bed?" he asked them. "Shouldn't you be there now?" As soon as they left the room, he'd get to the bottom of it.

Piper's mouth hung open. She couldn't believe her hero knew that she was being deceitful! Of all the dirty, rotten luck - to be so close to freedom and to the love of a truly wonderful man and have her darkest secret discovered because she was trying to protect the man who, up until the moment she told him the truth about her, only wanted to protect her and her family!

Dawn glanced at Paige, but Paige's worried eyes were glued to her big sister. She knew something was wrong, and she knew it was bad. "We didn't know where we were supposed to go," she started babbling. "There were lots of rooms - "

Dawn jumped in. "Lots of really pretty, big rooms. They're all so grand! But we didn't know which one was ours."

"And we didn't want to just take advantage of your generosity." Paige smiled brightly at Cole and made a mental note that she was glad for the talks she used to have with their family doctor. For just a moment, she missed Doctor McCoy. He had been a fine doctor, and whatever this mess they were about now was, she was certain he would have done his best to help them out of it.

"Not that we haven't already," Dawn remarked, wearing the same big, bright smile that Paige was wearing and stepping boldly closer to Cole and Piper. "You've been so kind and generous and wonderful, and we really appreciate it."

"We definitely do," Paige put in.

"We didn't think there were any good men left," Dawn blabbed.

"We sure haven't seen any before," Paige added, also stepping forward. Only two steps closer would put Dawn and herself at Piper's side where they belonged.

"You can imagine the type of men who always hung out at the saloon," Dawn suggested.

"Ruffians. Dirty, sleazy, rotten . . . "

"SILENCE!"

The girls froze. All eyes turned to the cat, whose jet black fur stood on end. He had walked behind Cole and Piper, his tail gently touching Piper's ankle underneath the skirt of her dress, and had his nose touched to the door. His green eyes turned onto Cole, and the girls shivered at the brief glance they got of his expression that was so deep, dark, and solemn it seemed to bespeak their very doom. "It's _him_, Cole," Salem told the Demon who had once been one of his highest-ranking Generals.

* * *

Sneaking down the alleyway, careful to stay alert, he had almost made it to freedom when a hand snaked out and grabbed him, pulling him into a doorway. "You're early, mon amour," a male voice that was very familiar accosted his ears. Two warm lips suddenly touched down upon his lips while two strong hands pulled him close.

Letting him go, the silky voice continued, "I was just closing shop today when I felt you near. I am delightfully surprised; you were not supposed to be here until tomorrow." One hand led him down the darkened hallway to a well-lit room. One look at his lover's usually face had Jean-Luc making a tsking sound. "And," he spoke again in his deep French accent, "should I say you are in desperate need of a bath?"

Jean-Luc pulled Addamm into the bathroom that was bigger then most hotel rooms. Setting about drawing the bath that was heated by steam, he then began kissing every inch of the sneaky thief he now exposed by ripping the dirty clothes from his body...

"I should say," Addamm murmured as Jean-Luc rained kisses upon his body, "that I am most in need of some . . . shall we say . . . " He mimicked Jean-Luc's French accent as he concluded, " . . . passionate loving?" He gently pushed him away and pouted seductively while staying just out of his reach.

"But I thought I was too dirty for you, beau?" He wriggled his eyebrows, and the rest of his body followed suit until he was sliding seductively across the bathroom, still staying just out of reach. Jean-Luc had already freed him of his jacket and shirt, but he hooked his grimy fingers into the hem of his pants and began to slowly shimmy them just a fraction of an inch down his lithe body. "If I strip for you," he sang, "will you strip for me?"

Jean-Luc had not been in Addamm's thoughts tonight. He'd not intended to face his former lover until the next day, but he been left hot from watching the dark man's big gun in play and had ended up with no satisfaction. Jean-Luc was one of the better lovers he had enjoyed over the years and was certainly closer than most. They were just following ancient history. After a good steal, a man always needed a good ride, and Jean-Luc was certainly that!

"Oh, yes, my cherie, I will strip for you!" he almost purred the words as he danced around the bathroom, slowly and sensually removing his own clothes. Stopping the water flow to the big tub, added, "And then I, Jean-Luc, will personally bathe all the filth away from your so sexy body so that I may kiss you all over and take whatever dirty thoughts that are in your mind far far away. I will kiss you until I am the only thought you will have..."

Addamm grinned teasingly at him. "I warn you: my mind is very, very dirty." He winked as he slid his breeches further down, revealing that he wore nothing underneath them. "You may find that the dirt gets on you as well." He shook his body as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and his already-swollen manhood wriggled invitingly at his long-time friend.

Jean-Luc giggled as he slipped some scented oil in the tub and reached out to Addamm. "Come to PaPa, and get your dirt all over me, you naughty, naughty boy!" He almost purred as his silky fingers encountered Addamm's heated manhood. His fingers embedded in the silky, warm hairs around his mighty sword. Still holding Addamm's magnificent sword, he led him straight for the bath, and Addamm went willingly...

* * *

"Him?" Piper questioned, her wide, brown eyes glancing swiftly between man and cat. "What him? You know him, don't you? And how do you two know each other?" Her balled hands had barely touched her hips when another arrow hit the door. Piper's hands flew up as Paige and Dawn screamed, but nothing happened.

"He's evil," Salem spoke, "and that's all you women really need to know."

Piper's heart fluttered in dread. Her Mother had told her there would be days like this in their last few days together. "Paige," she spoke firmly, "go to the kitchen and find some salt." She glanced at Cole. "You do have salt, don't you?"

Outside, the Hunter approached with a cold smile gracing his face. He notched another arrow in his bow as he focused on the beating heart of his Demonic prey. This time he would not miss. This time he would kill Belthazor and carry his head proudly to his Queen. Yet as his finger started to pull the trigger, red-hot pain flared in his shoulder. His bow fell from his hands, and the arrow went wild. The Hunter roared in fury and pain as he reached a hand around to his shoulder and pulled out a hatchet. He snarled silently as he tossed the bloody hatchet to the ground, then turned to survey the darkness. He raised his head and sniffed. The boy was here. He would make his Queen doubly proud before the night was out. He heard footsteps, grasped his bow, and fired a dozen arrows in rapid succession.

Salem hissed as the back door to Cole's house was slung open. Piper's eyes were wide with fear, but her irises blazed with determination. "Get behind me," she spoke firmly as she stepped forward, her hands raised and at the ready. She met Cole's eyes for just a moment, then looked into Dawn's eyes. "I'm sorry," she told them both with a sad shake of her head, "but I'm not the woman you think I am."

Dawn's mouth fell open, but Paige grasped her arm and pulled her behind Cole. "Not now," she said with a firm shake of her redhead. "Piper loves us. You've got to believe that."

Dawn's mind whirled with questions even as she whispered, "I do."

Piper heard the girl's timid words, and her heart was touched. At least Dawnie wouldn't hate her after the night was over.

Salem's eyes darted between Cole and Piper as he pondered whether or not he should reveal their secrets. If they knew, they would make a better fighting team, but he'd already meddled in others' lives too much. Those meddlings had cost the very people he had cared about more than anything else far too much, he reflected sadly as he stared down, through shimmering green eyes, at his black, furry paws.

* * *

Hansel shook his head at Bobby's question about whether or not smoking the peace pipe could help him commune with the dead. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way . . . "

Bobby kicked at a pebble in their pathway. "I was afraid o' that . . . " He looked up at him as Hansel wrapped an arm around his waist to help him balance as he swaggered. "But why did I hear him?"

Hansel smiled sadly. "I wish I had the answers for you, chickasaw, but I don't know. Maybe because you wanted to?"

Bobby sighed and hung his head. "I do want to. More than anything in the world, I want to hear his voice again, want to see him again, want to feel him again, want to know he's alive and he still loves me . . . "

Hansel hugged him. "He may not be alive, Bobby, but he'll never stop loving you. We both know that."

"I know," Bobby replied, tears beginning to trickle down his face. "I just miss him so much!"

"I know," Hansel said. They had walked a little pace away from the others, and he held him as Bobby finally let the tears fall. He needed to talk to him. He was the only one who he could trust to keep his secret until he and Jack were far enough away that his family would not be able to follow them, but he couldn't heap more bad news upon him when his soul was already awash in grief and sorrow.

Hansel was still holding Bobby when the Indians began to shout and started running. He looked up as Sean rode in to find himself surrounded by warriors with their arrows already drawn and at the ready. "Aw cripes!"

"Huh?" Bobby looked up and, through his tears, saw the scene of Sheriff Cassidy surrounded by angry Indians, each of which had their arrows trained upon him. He shook his head. "Leave it to that crazy Irish man!"

"Yeah," Hansel agreed, taking note of Thunder, "but he was looking for the Malloys."

"Of course he was," Bobby agreed. "But he always gets his butt in the crack, nobody who he's looking for!"

Hansel chuckled for he knew that Bobby was right. As long as he'd known the man, there had always been some kind of trouble afoot around him. "Comes with the badge," he remarked.

"Yeah, and that's exactly why you'll never see one of those tin stars pinned to my chest!" The friends shared a laugh as they headed forward, their arms still linked.

* * *

Cole desperately wanted to assuage their fears. He knew about Piper's abilities but had not expected her to use them on him so soon. The girls had been an unexpected surprise. He smiled at them warmly despite the fact that his heart was beating so rapidly he was afraid they could hear it as Salem confirmed his worst nightmares come true. He was out there and was hunting him!

As far as Cole knew, no one had ever escaped him. He knew that He had Carl. He had probably killed the little fellow already. Now He was coming after him and He would kill Piper and the girls without a second glance as though they were mere insects to be squashed. After all, had He not taken pleasure in the killing of his own son?

Cole looked down at Salem, wishing that he had the power he had once possessed before he had been cursed into this form. Now bereft of his powers, Cole could tell he felt as though he had nothing left to offer. Salem had once been the greatest leader Cole had ever known. Cole had followed him explicitly and still felt admiration for him.

A plan came to him slowly that involved getting Salem and the girls to safety. Gazing down on Salem, he asked, "Please take the girls to the end of the hallway and through the mirror; they will be safe there. Don't let them come back until one of us comes for you!" Then turning to Piper, he continued, "Salt will not keep him out! If the spells on the house don't hold, I will have to fight him. If I don't win, you will have to be the second line of defense. Hopefully, He will take me and leave you alone."

Cole reached out to pull her close. "Too many secrets, too little time," he spoke hoarsely. "Know this Piper: I have always loved you. I did not mean to bring you to this nor to endanger your family. I had no clue He was after me. After this is over, ask Salem. He'll tell you." He pressed his lips gently to her forehead even as they heard swiftly approaching footsteps. He prepared to fight, knowing the first use of his abilities would ring out loud and clear in Hell, alerting his other enemies to his whereabouts.

Piper's mind was whirling, and she longed to stay in Cole's arms even as questions bombarded her. Salem watched the couple, his head cocked to one side, his green eyes gleaming with mischief, and the tip of his black tail twitching. Cole, the sly Devil, had procured a mirror! That was one story he was looking forward to hearing, but there was no time for it now. There also was no time to get the girls to the mirror for the stranger was approaching even now.

His gaze shifted to one of puzzlement. It was definitely a stranger who was coming from the back, some one he had never smelled before. Some one who smelled of the sea and - he sighed in slight relief - mortality.

"Cole," Piper spoke, gazing into his eyes, "there's so much I want to tell you but no time - "

"ARE YOU PEOPLE DAFT? GET OUT! EVIL IS UPON YOU!"

Every female mouth in the room dropped open for the footsteps had stopped just inside the room, the thundering voice had sounded from that very spot, and yet there was no one to be seen!

"Cole?" Piper whispered, glancing at him before quickly refocusing her attention on the spot.

"He means us no harm," Salem spoke, his tail swishing. "Do you, boy?"

"NONE, BUT THE CREATURE OUTSIDE WILL SLAY YOU ALL AND NOT THINK TWICE OF IT! FLEE OUT THe BACK WHILE YOU CAN! I'LL DISTRACT HIM!" Again the footsteps were heard, this time running through the room and toward the front door.

* * *

Tornado had tossed Dawson to safety and raced back for his mistress. Now his hooves struck her assailant in the back. The man yowled like a wounded cat as he released her to throw the horse off of his back. Blood splattered down on Faith, and she realized, with a scream breaking from her lungs, that it was Tornado's blood gushing from a hole the bounty hunter had cut in his side.

Her hot mouth threw every curse word she could think of at him as she rolled out from underneath him and jumped to her feet. He moved at her, and her hands and feet were a flurry of action as she did her best to fight him off. How stupid could she have been, her brain screamed at her, than to spend even a minute without a weapon? She knew better! She knew better, and now Tornado was going to pay the price!

The man stopped in fending her blows off for a second, and her fist connected with his jaw. His head snapped back up, and she was glad to see a spot of blood drip from his mouth. He sniffed the air. "Boy's comin' back too. Been a while since I had a man," he taunted.

Faith's eyes blazed with fury. She used every move she'd ever been taught, but the few times she did connect with the big brute of a man seemed to be to of no avail as he kept standing, fending off most of her blows, and slipping repeatedly past her guard to cut her again and again. Blood slipped down her naked body from her many wounds, but still she fought on.

She couldn't see Dawson, but she didn't doubt for a second that he was coming, foolishly thinking that he could somehow come to her rescue. "GET OUT OF HERE, KID!" she yelled. "GO BACK!" For one split second, she thought of asking him to get help for Tornado, who lay just a few feet away, trembling violently, but she would not reveal the whereabouts of her people to this maniac who seemed to think that the fur of the tiger he wore gave him the mighty feline's strength and prowess.

Maybe he'd understand if she told him about Tornado? Maybe he'd go for help any way, and the hunter would have already dragged her away so that her people could help Tornado but not be endangered themselves? "TORNADO'S DYING!" There was wretched misery in her voice as she cried those two words, praying that he'd understand and that the Shaman could save her best friend's life, and then the bounty hunter was upon her again. She clawed at his hands as they closed around her throat and lifted her off of her feet, but it was as though he did not even feel her fingernails digging at his fur-covered hands or her swinging feet kicking him in the stomach . . .

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at ficcersuniteDOT proboardsDOTcom today!


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

"Salem, who or what was that?" Cole asked. "We must go through the mirror as soon as we can get there. It is much safer there than here." Looking at Piper, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

She gazed into his eyes and knew that there was only one answer she could give. "Yes," she said and meant the word with her whole heart. Though she still feared how he would react to her Witchcraft, she now had even more questions about him. Cole had mentioned that there were spells on his house, and he was in possession of some kind of magical mirror. There seemed to be no one else in his life, up until a few hours ago, except for himself, so surely he had to place the spells upon the house? Her heart pounded, and it was not entirely from fear. Maybe, just maybe, her hero truly was magic!

"A lad," Salem mused, as the front door opened, "from the sea who seeks a lot more trouble than he's ready for." He shook off the sensations creeping along his spine as the stranger moved to the porch and shut the door behind him. His gaze met Cole's. "He's mortal, and we must use him to our advantage while we can. To the mirror!" His tail swished as he started to lead the way only to find Paige and Dawn still staring at the door without moving. "Girls," he snapped, "if you wish to save your lives, you must come with us!"

Dawn and Paige shook their heads as though trying to clear their minds from the shock that was threatening to set in. "Did he just say mortal?" Dawn asked to which Paige shrugged. Both their faces battled with confusion and fear as they hesitantly followed Salem.

Piper looked fearfully at Cole. "You are coming with us, aren't you?" She didn't know what she would do if he said he was staying, but she knew one thing for certain. She was beginning to love this man, and there was no way in the world she was going to leave him behind.

Outside, on the porch, the stranger stepped out of a pair of large, glittering shoes. He moaned as his feet touched the wooden planks of the porch and then immediately began to yearn for the shoes again. "HUNTER," he yelled, "COME AND MEET ME IF YOU DARE!"

The Hunter turned, his bow raised and pulled his arrow, but the stranger jumped back into his shoes and sailed off the porch just in time. A splatter of blood dotted the beam where he had just stood, however, and the Hunter smiled. He had his mark; he'd never lose him now!

Pulling Piper gently by the arm, Cole led the way to the mirror. "Close your eyes as you step through. You will begin falling; once inside, try to relax. You will have a safe landing. Once you have landed, roll to the side else you will have the next one to fall on you. When you get there, wait until the rest of us get there." He needed someone to watch the girls and make sure they didn't run off. "Salem, will you please go first?"

He wondered who the lad from the sea was and what amulet he wore to help him be invisible. He prayed for his safety but had felt the arrow hit him. Poor brave boy he thought, he hoped he would not die alone in the forest. He did not tell the others but gazed hopefully down at Salem.

Salem studied Cole's gaze intently before turning to face Piper. "Make certain he comes with us, madam. Knowing my lad, he's got intentions of facing that monster out there himself, and if he does, he'll not live through the encounter." He then turned his gaze to the girls, who were trying to be brave but trembling nonetheless. With a wink, he told them, "See you on the other side," and leapt through, his tail flying high as a banner.

* * *

Sean made the sign of peace very slowly. He didn't want the Indians to shoot him. "I seek friends," Sean spoke. "They were hurt in th' storm. Are they here?" He slowly moved his eyes seeking for a familiar, friendly face...

The Shaman spoke to the white man's Sheriff who spoke with funny sounding words, "They are here. Come this way." The Shaman spoke to his people, and the weapons were lowered. Sean dismounted and followed the Shaman to a tepee on the edge of the village.

The Shaman lifted the flap and held it so that the Sheriff could enter the steaming hot atmosphere of the medicine teepee. Carlos sat beside Trent so that he could hold his hand gently. His head hung down, and his lips spoke in a whisper. Sean couldn't hear anything clearly except when Carlos told Trent that he had better not die before he could tell him how much he loved him.

Sean was not surprised at the declaration as he had long suspected that Carlos loved both the twins but one more than the other. He laid a reassuring hand on Carlos' shoulder and squeezed it gently. Carlos' head jerked up at the gentle touch, and he looked at Sean with frantic worry glittering in his tear-filled, brown eyes.

Sean nodded, patted his shoulder reassuringly, and sat down beside his friend and deputy. Not a word was spoken as each man gazed into the other's eyes. Sean would sit beside Carlos, keeping him company and praying for their mutual friend, and Sean would never disclose a word of what he had heard.

It would be a long night but not a lonely one; family being close always seemed to help. Sean was not surprised to find that he thought of this small group as being his family. It warmed his lonely heart. He began to pray for their speedy recovery as Carlos returned to his prayers.

* * *

Dawn almost fainted when Salem disappeared, but Paige kept a firm hold on her. "Shake it off," she whispered. "You've got to be strong. Piper's counting on us." She leaned even closer and looked at her with her brows slightly raised, "Or do you want to end up crawling back to your mother and sister and begging forgiveness?"

Dawn's brown eyes flashed at that word. "Never!" she cried. Before she could lose her courage, she ran forward and jumped, leaving Paige to look at Piper.

"You're coming?" Paige asked, trying not to let her sister know how afraid she was.

Piper gently touched her little sister's face. "Nothing can keep me away from your side for long, Paige. You know that. We'll be right behind you . . . " She turned her head to look up at Cole as she questioned, her voice firm yet tight, "Won't we?"

"Madam, I have no intentions of staying behind longer than is necessary. For once in my life, I have no need for confrontation with my enemies. I have a very strong desire to live and love you for a long time to come, but we both have to do something before we leap. You have to get your book and protect it from HIM for HE works for one who would give her very soul if she still had one to possess it, and I must do something to hide the mirror or HE will follow us. So hurry, sweetheart!"

Piper and Paige stood with their mouths hanging wide open. Paige was the first to manage to speak for her tongue was never still for long. "How did he . . . ?" she squeaked to which Piper shook her head.

"I don't know." She gave Cole an odd look as she studied him. "How did you know, Cole?" she questioned though her heart still sang from the words of love he had spoken.

"We don't have time now, sweetheart. When we are all safe together, Salem and I have a lot to tell you. Now Paige, please jump and let the others know we'll be with them soon. Don't make them worry..." He turned from them and ran to his kitchen where he opened a sugar can and retrieved a magic wand. He hoped that he could still make it work its magic; it had been a very long time since he had held it in his hand... It vibrated with a warm glow, and he thought that, just maybe, there was hope for them after all...

"Piper . . . " Paige started.

"I know, but I trust him," Piper told her. "We'll find out later."

"Salem had a book."

"Huh?"

"Salem had a book, or somebody did. Elvira was carrying it, and then she gave it to Cole when she left. What happened to it?"

"I don't know," Piper told her, "but we'll find it. Go ahead before Dawn starts fretting."

"Starts?" Paige asked with a little grin.

Piper returned her smile. "Gets more worried?" she suggested. "We'll hurry. I promise. We'll come."

The sisters hugged tightly, and as they parted, Paige spoke, looking down into Piper's eyes, "Make sure you do. We can't do this without you. We need you."

Piper nodded sadly. "I know. I won't let you down, I promise." She hugged her again. "Now go." She gave her a gentle push and tried not to think about how terribly she'd let down their mother and grandmother when she had also made the same promise to them - even if they had never heard her speak the words. She would keep this promise, however; nothing would keep her from her sister.

"Cole," she called, walking in the direction he had gone, "what happened to Sal - " She stopped with her mouth wide open in mid-word when she saw him holding the lit wand.

* * *

Hansel had slowed his pace when he'd seen the Shaman intercept Sheriff Cassidy. Instead of continuing on to the gathering group, his hand slipped to Bobby's, and he pulled him into a space between two teepees. Bobby frowned at his friend. "What's going on?"

"I have to talk to you, Bobby," Hansel told him. "I don't want to put this on your shoulders now, but you're the only one I can trust."

Bobby's eyebrows lowered as he looked at Hansel questioningly. What could possibly be so bad that could have happened here in the Indian village that he was the only one whom Hansel could trust enough to talk to about it? Instead of asking him the questions that bubbled up within him, however, Bobby simply told him, "My shoulders are plenty big enough for a friend's problems. What's going on?"

"Not here," Hansel spoke, dropping to a whisper as a brave walked by. "Follow me." He led him a little ways from the teepees before turning around and facing him again. "Jack's in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Big trouble. The kind that could get him and everybody else around him killed."

"How can I help?"

"By explaining to my family why I had to leave after we've had enough time to get safely away from here."

"You're leaving?"

"It's the only way. You've got to trust me, Bobby."

"I do, Hansel. You know that. But you just came home!"

"I know, but if we stay, they'll come after my family. I can't let that happen, and I can't let Jack face this alone." His desperate, blue orbs searched Bobby's eyes for understanding. "If you were in my position, and Jack was Hank, you'd do the same."

"Yeah," Bobby admitted with a nod, "I would. So what do you want me to do?"

"Give us a day, maybe two, and then tell them."

"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do to help?"

"Yeah. You can not say a word about it until we've had enough time to get away safely."

"Faith'll probably kill me," Bobby said with a half-grin, "but I won't tell her until the day after tomorrow." He reconsidered his statement. "Make that the _night_ after tomorrow." His grin grew slightly.

"Thanks. And tell Lorne and Elvira, too. I'm sorry I'm leaving you guys with Derek."

"I'm not. It's about time you got away from him. We'll give 'im Hell."

Hansel smiled sadly. "You do that." He wrapped his arms around his friend and hugged him tight before walking away.

Bobby watched Hansel go, feeling even more helpless inside than he had earlier that night. There was so much happening to his friends right now and so little he could do to truly help them. His head lifted as he heard another howl. He shivered. His mind had to be playing tricks on him for he could have sworn he heard Brendan's name in that howl. He wrapped his arms around himself and headed back into the center of the village.

Jack finally spied Hansel talking to Bobby between two teepees, but he didn't let on that he had seen them. He continued towards the edge of the village, hoping for a place to meet his needs. He heard a grunt of satisfaction as an Indian came out of the nearby bushes. {So that's where they are going...} He walked over to a clump and began to express himself.

The night was full of howls. One especially kept assailing his ears, and he wondered what kind of beast was expressing his eternal woes. He felt like howling as well but didn't dare as he didn't want them to think he had gone mad. Was he not the luckiest guy in the world tonight? Had not his love chosen to go with him?

For a brief moment, he kicked himself for pulling Hansel away from his people and then realized he would not have to sneak away like a thief in the night. He smiled as he, too, left the brush with a satisfied grunt...

Hansel left Bobby with a heart that was growing heavy, but he knew, at the same time, that he would have chosen no other path save accompanying Jack. The night seemed to be full of howling beasts, but one in particular caught his ears. He lifted his head, looking in its direction though he knew he'd not be able to see a sign of the animal that howled. It certainly had sounded like Hank, but that was impossible. Their friend was long dead and would not be returning.

His heart ached for Bobby. He had never witnessed a grander love than that which he had shared with Hank, and he had wished for a long time to one day be blessed with that love. At the time, he'd been hoping it would come from Derek; now, for as far as he was concerned, Derek could rot in the Hell he had tried to trap him in it permanently. Thanks to Jack, he had failed.

Had he finally found such a love as grand as Bobby and Hank's with Jack? Hansel wondered. He hoped so. His heart sang with the mere thought of Jack and what they shared, but it was too soon for him to be certain that it was indeed love when he'd so foolishly thought he'd known what love was. He ducked into Faith's teepee, still marveling at how Jack made him feel and wondering about the howls . . .

* * *

It was too late to hide the wand, but hopefully Piper would think it was a wand for a magician. That could explain some of what was going on for now. "Sorry," he grinned sheepishly, "I can't leave this behind. Where's your book?"

Relief was coursing through Piper's soul at a rate even faster than her heart could beat. He was magic! She wanted to cry, laugh, shout for joy, drop to her knees and thank her Goddess, and run into his arms and hug and kiss him until he was as breathless as she. Yet she knew there was no time to do so. "Thank the Gods," she breathed, her whole face lit by her smile despite the danger they were in.

She had to fight down her ecstatic emotions before she could tell him, "I'll get the Book, but what happened to that book you were carrying earlier? Isn't it important too?"

Cole looked wildly around the room. Where had he left Salem's book? If he lost it, Salem would kill him! Then he spied it and ran across the room. Grabbing it to his chest, he turned and waited for his love's return. They had to hurry...

Piper ran through the house, checking each trunk that Cole had delivered until she found hers. Kneeling beside it, she pried the lid off and gazed inside. She wondered fretfully if she would ever see her few belongings again but pushed the thought aside as she gathered the most important treasures she possessed to her. The Book held not only the spells of her family but also the only things she had left of her mother and grandmother, the locket with their pictures and their writings. With one last, longing look at her trunk, Piper ran back to the kitchen.

As she neared Cole, she wondered again about the mirror. Just where were they going? Who, or what more particularly, was after them? Everything was happening so fast that the events of the day were a blur, and her life felt completely changed from what it had been just that very morning. What was next for herself, Paige, and little Dawnie? She only knew one thing for certain, she realized as she came to stand before Cole, and that was that whatever happened, Cole would keep them safer than they had been since they had been children. "I'm ready," she breathed, fighting to keep her voice from trembling.

Cole was relieved that Piper had returned so quickly. He knew she was afraid but being brave enough not to show it. "We'll return when HE has left. It may take days. Sorry, my love. I wanted your time in my house to be a wonderful renewing experience for you. I wanted only happiness to surround you. I didn't know HE was after me or I never would have brought you here. Come let's face our new adventure together..." He knew she would not jump until he did so. Despite his better intentions, he jumped first...calling to her even as he fell, holding tightly to the wand and the book...

There was so much that Piper wanted to tell Cole, but he was gone before she could. With his words ringing in her ears and reconfirming in her soul and heart that everything would be all right, she pressed her fingers against the glass and watched it shimmer before her. Taking a deep breath and holding tightly to the Book and the precious memories it contained, she leapt.

Cole shook his head in disbelief. The land was even more beautiful this time then it had been the last time he had visited... They were in a field of the most beautiful white flowers he had ever seen. Not too far from where he stood he could see Salem and the girls standing looking at a crystal clear lagoon with a waterfall. What a beautiful place this is! he thought. How he would love to make love to Piper in that glorious spread of flowers...

He stood looking up, after having laid Salem's book carefully on the ground and taking the wand from his pocket, waited for his beloved to come through the portal. As soon as he saw that she was clear, he pointed the wand and focused. In a swirling motion, he began the closure spell and was satisfied to hear a popping sound as he finished the spell just in time as he saw Piper falling ever closer to him.

He flipped the wand into its hiding place, knowing that he'd have to get it recharged before using it again and, with a smile on his face, held out his arms, catching the most beautiful woman he had ever known in his arms and spinning her around. Then he set her safely upon her feet before pulling her and the book into his arms for a most delicious kiss. So caught up in his love was he that he did not notice until it was almost too late that the book was burning him from the touch! He let go immediately with a cry of shock, the front of his shirt smoldering ...

* * *

The nightmare had burst upon them so suddenly that Dawson had no time to react other than to hold on tight as Tornado had raced him away from danger and then, tossing him to safety, returned to Faith. Dawson could not fight without a weapon, and he knew not where to find one. He kept his eyes open, looking for anything he could use against whatever Demon had attacked them. The only thing he found was his shirt; he picked it up and ran silently forward.

He got there just in time to see the Demon rake Tornado and Tornado fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. He knelt beside the beautiful animal breathing so raggedly and prayed he was not too far beyond help as he heard Faith's words coming back to him despite being lifted by the horrible monster. He ached to run at the beast and try to help the woman who had so enraptured him, but he knew he would not be a match for such a monstrosity.

The bounty hunter sniffed the air. "Fresh whelp by th' dead horse."

"He's not dead," Faith managed to grunt despite the fist that closed around her throat.

He squeezed harder. "Ain't he? That can be remedied. I'll have 'em both fer my supper."

Her terror shone in her eyes, and the words her throat burned to spit at him were cut off by his fist squeezing her throat until she felt like her head would pop off from the pressure. She swung her legs blindly and finally connected with his dick. He howled as he dropped her.

Faith landed on her feet and spat up blood. She was bleeding all over and crying inside. She had to save Tornado, and she couldn't let Dawson get hurt! But if she went for them, this fucker would follow her. "Like I said," she snapped, blood flinging from her lips, "I'm a feisty, little bitch. You want me, ya fucking bastard?" She gestured to her naked breasts as she backed up toward the forest. "Come and get me if you're man enough."

The trick worked for, in his anger, the hunter forgot about the boy and the horse. He howled his fury as he charged Faith. She ran before him, leading him further into the woods.

Dawson shivered as he pushed the horse's entrails back in as best he could and stuffed his shirt in the gaping hole, whispering to the animal, "I will go for help." Tornado's big eyes looked at him pleadingly. "Stay still," Dawson told him. "We can not hope to save her ourselves, but we won't stop 'til we get her back."

He wasn't sure how far they had wandered from the village, but he knew where it was and so set out at a fast run, hoping to get help for Tornado first so that he wouldn't die. If Faith lost Tornado, Dawson knew it would just about kill her. He liked the brave, proud animal that was a soul brother to his beloved and would miss him terribly should he die. {That can't happen!} he vowed and redoubled his efforts to reach the camp, heedless to the brush and rocks that tore at his own tender body...

* * *

Piper screamed and backed up, her brown eyes wide. One moment, she had been in Paradise, but now fear captured her heart. "What are you?" she demanded. "Where's Cole?"

Salem looked up, his ears perked to attention. "Uh oh," he murmured before taking command in his next breath. "Stay here!" he told the girls as his tail cut through the air. He ran toward Cole and Piper.

"Oh my Gods!" Paige cried as she spotted Cole's smoking shirt.

"What is it?" Dawn asked. "Did he follow us?"

"N-No . . . Dawnie, stay here," Paige told the younger girl before running after Salem.

"I'm not staying here!" Dawn exclaimed. "Not by myself!" Holding her skirts in one hand so that she wouldn't trip over them, she chased after Paige.

"Your book," Cole managed to croak out, "is overly protective... It doesn't like me nor the impure thoughts I was thinking... I'm sorry, Piper, for scaring you, but I won't take back my thoughts and," he looked around at the others, "I won't speak of them in front of the others!"

"Piper, get away from him!" Paige told her sister as she reached the group and heard snatches of the conversation concerning what the Book had done to Cole. "You know what Mother said about the Book!"

"I do," Piper whispered, looking at Cole for the first time with uncertainty in her eyes and pinning the Book tightly against her chest. "I'm sorry," she continued, her voice cracking, "but the Book wouldn't have done that to Cole if he was just having impure thoughts. It doesn't work that way."

"You know what he is, Piper," Paige told her. "He's either a Demon or a Warlock!"

"He's a Demon," Salem admitted, standing between the sisters and Cole and looking up into Piper's eyes, "but he's the same man who rescued you."

"A DEMON!" Dawn screeched. Her head suddenly felt light, and the world spun around her. She fell . . .

* * *

Hansel was in the teepee, waiting on him, when Jack returned. "Is it time now?" he asked. Slipping his arms around Hansel's rockhard body, Jack hugged him tenderly, knowing that it was not an easy thing to leave his people and face the unknown. He inhaled the scent that was so much a part of his beloved, relishing the smell. One day he would ask him what it was. "You can still stay here if you choose," Jack offered. He hated to see the sadness on his beloved's face. It was as though his heart was breaking all over again...

Hansel raised his hands to cup Jack's face and looked directly into his sweetheart's dark and enchanting eyes. "I choose," he spoke firmly, "to stand beside you and to love you." He still wasn't sure if what he felt for him was truly love, but he did know that he didn't want to feel the way he felt for Jack about anybody else and, even if it might not be true love, he wanted it to be nothing less.

He kissed his lips gently, then pulled reluctantly back for he knew they did not have much time. "We should slip out now," he acknowledged, "while they're distracted by the Sheriff's coming. I'm sorry that you thought I was having second thoughts; I'm not. I want to be with you."

"It's just . . . " He sighed. "Bobby's going through a lot right now, and there's something going on beyond the village that I wish I could explain but can not. It's a long story that I'll tell you later, but for now let's just say that my friend is heart-broken and I feel for him. He lost the man he loved; I never want to lose you." He kissed Jack again, and this time he let his lips linger in the embrace of the man whom he truly believed he belonged with and was the only man he could come close to loving.

As a little boy, Hansel's adopted mother had told him that his history was written in the stars. For years, he had believed her until Derek had convinced him otherwise. Now, like so many other things in his life that he had turned away from, he found himself thinking about her stories again and accepting them as truths. His story was written in the stars, but so, too, he believed was Jack's. Together they would find their stories and make them come true, and if anything about him was to ever be legendary, it would be the way he felt for this wonderful man who he tenderly held close to his heart.

Jack melted into his beloved's embrace, hoping that together they would write their legends in the stars that he saw in Hansel's eyes every time he looked into them. He held on to his precious gift, thanking the Gods but praying silently that the Shaman was wrong in what he had seen for he never wanted to lose Hansel's love...

* * *

"Thank you, Salem," Cole spoke. "I was afraid to tell you. I didn't want to lose you, Piper. You are my whole world and have been since the first time I saw you. Ask yourself: Have I done one thing to harm any of you? I can't help what I was born into, but I have strived to make myself worthy of you."

"If you don't believe me, then spell cast me back to hell. I will not fight you..." He knelt before her, his head bowed, tears threatening to run down his face... and waited. If she did not love him, then he would wish to be returned to his certain doom that awaited him should he be cast back to Hell for he could not live without her...

Salem moved when he saw the glimmering tears in Piper's eyes. "You're welcome, Cole," he whispered. "Oh, and as I'm sure you already know," he added, grinning despite the own heavy feelings in his heart, "she's a Witch." He knew, too, that she was one of the most powerful Witches to be born in the current century, but he would let that wait for neither she nor her sister were ready for that knowledge. "Now there are no more secrets between you two young lovers."

Silent tears were speeding down Piper's cheeks as Salem walked out from between them and padded over to Paige, who stood beside Dawn's unconscious form. "Girl seems to make a habit of that," he commented. "Shouldn't we help her?"

"Shouldn't we help her?" Paige sputtered. "What are you - nuts? Look at me! I'm asking a talking cat if he's nuts!" she exclaimed as she witnessed Piper carefully place their family's Book of Shadows upon the flower-filled ground. "Piper, don't!"

Salem placed a paw upon the redhead's foot and wished he possessed the actual strength to still her. "Stop and think for a moment, little one. Have you ever seen your sister happier? Have you ever known a kinder or gentler man? Has any one even tried to help you since your mother and grandmother were burned?"

Paige's mouth dropped open as she looked down at the cat. "How did you know?"

"I knew your grandmother," he told her, "Penelope Halliwell, well. I gave her one of her amulets. Do you remember the necklace she wore with the blue amethyst and tiger's eye?" Paige nodded mutely, then sat before Salem and let him talk as she watched Piper run to Cole and wondered.

It went against everything she had ever been taught, but yet Piper knew in her heart and in her soul that Cole was no different than how he had first appeared to her just because he was a Demon. He had not chosen to be born a Demon any more than she had chosen to be born a Witch. She went to him; lifted his head in her hands; gazed lovingly down into his pleading, teary eyes; wove her fingers through his curly, raven locks; and kissed him long and deep. When at last her lips lifted, she remained in his arms, gazing into his eyes, and whispered softly, "Thank you, and I'm sorry."

Salem gazed back at the couple from where he talked to Paige about his memories of her grandmother with tears glittering in his own emerald eyes. He wiped at them with his tail and then gave a startled meow as the redhead gathered him into her arms. "I can see," she whispered, "you're right. We have him to thank for everything, and they have you to thank."

Salem smiled sadly as she wiped away his tears and forced down the comment that rose in his throat. No one should thank him for anything for he had failed the world.

Cole's eyes were full of unshed tears... Salem had saved him yet again. He should have thanked him for it, but he had moved away before he could and then Piper was raining kisses down upon him. He started to thinking about the field of daisies and what he would like to do with Piper there, and he blushed. He pulled her into his arms and pledged his love to her with a kiss that seared her to her very toes...

Never before had she felt such passion or love, and she trembled at the sheer enormosity of the feelings that swept through her. It didn't matter that Cole was a Demon. What mattered was that he loved her and she . . . Her mind warned her that it was too soon, but her heart and soul sang that she did love him. She had never felt the way she did about him about any one else, and the feelings coursing through her every fiber did shout of exactly all the things her mother and grandmother had told her she would feel when she did fall in love.

For the first time in years, Piper was truly happy as she felt so many wondrous feelings that she either had never felt before or never thought she'd feel again. Cole was the love of her life, she knew. He was her soul mate; he completed her. He was a Demon and she a Witch, and because of that, trouble would fill their lives, but love and happiness would as well. Besides, she thought before the passion completely overtook her and hushed her mind entirely, as long as she was with Cole and their family was safe, nothing else mattered!

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at ficcersuniteDOT proboardsDOTcom today!


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

"Tell me about her."

Salem looked up into Paige's green eyes, and for the first time, he realized just how much her eyes looked like her grandmother's. His tail swished slowly; his ebony paws kneaded the ground beneath him. He looked away for he could see too much of Penelope and too much sorrow in the pleading windows of the young girl's soul.

"Please?"

Salem dared to glance at her. As he fought down his own troubled emotions, his tail cut through the air.

"I don't remember much about her," Paige told him. "Just that she was very kind and very sweet, and she and Momma loved us very much. I remember the day they made us go away. They knew the Christians would kill us too, because we were their children. They were Witches. Our whole family was Witches. And that made us evil." She looked imploringly at him. "Why?" she asked the cat, somehow sensing that he was far more intelligent than any man she'd ever met. "Why do they hate us, Salem?" she asked, tears now beginning to spring to her green eyes. "They preach about love and goodness, but they kill us because we don't share their beliefs!"

Salem gave a heavy sigh. "One of the many mysteries of our world, dear child." He stood, stretched slowly, padded over to her, and curled up into her lap. "Penelope was a very sweet, dear woman, and she did love you very, very much. She loved you with all her heart, and I'm certain her daughter was just the same as her mother. They were wonderful women," he purred, "as were all of their kind."

Paige stroked him, and he shivered inside. He had not felt a gentle touch before this night for two hundred years. Paige paused as she felt him tremble. "Are you okay?"

He nodded but did not look at her. "Please don't stop," he whispered and continued to purr as she resumed petting him. "Penelope was one of the most powerful Witches I've ever had the honor to know, but alas blind hatred took its toll yet again . . . "

They sat in silence for a moment before he commented softly, "She liked to sing too, you know."

Paige frowned slightly as she struggled to remember. She had been so young when her sisters and herself had lost their mother and grandmother that she could scarcely remember them. Piper was the only mother she'd known for almost her entire life. "I remember . . . " she mused, " . . . a lullaby . . . She had a very pretty voice."

"That she did, and she sang for all kinds of reasons. I've never heard a lovelier voice than your grandmother's. She wrote a great number of the songs she sang too."

"Really?" Paige asked. "Like what?"

Salem gazed into the distance, remembering the past he had shared with this innocent child's grandmother, the family they had known, and the tragedies that had befallen them all because he had failed to save them. With tears shimmering in his deep, green eyes, he began to sing.

"In the cold of the evening, they used to gather.  
Neath the stars in the meadow, circled near the old oak tree.

At the times appointed.. by the seasons..  
of the earth, and the phases of the moon."

* * *

He ran through the thick, dark forest with howls and roars sounding all around him. From time to time, he thought he could make the sounds out to be a man's name, but he never once stopped as he pushed onward, leading the murderer who had slaughtered his family further away from his latest innocent targets. The Hunter never rested, and so he knew he could never rest. He trudged onward, part of his mind screaming at him to turn around and embrace Death so that he could sail the eternal waters with his family but the rest of his brain, the part which constantly fought to keep control of his every moment, reminding him that he had a duty and must avenge his loved one's cold-hearted murders before he could ever think about resting, whether it be for just a moment or all eternity.

He pushed onward through the darkness, stumbling from time to time over fallen limbs and hidden rocks. The creatures of the night continued to screech all around him, and still he could feel him coming. His footsteps thudded in every loud beat of his heart. Suddenly, he fell. His booted feet went skidding out from underneath him. His hands flailed madly, and he managed to catch the tip of a branch.

The tree's branch turned within his hand, and he looked up, through big, brown eyes, to see glowing red eyes gazing back at him. "Release me, boy," the tree snarled. He yelped, snatched his hand away, and ran even faster than before.

* * *

Prue was tired and heartbroken after all she had just been through to save her people, and all to no avail! She could go no further. The howls she continued to hear made the tears run even faster down her face. She fell to her knees.

She couldn't go home without the doctor! She sat down cross-legged and tried to draw her breath. Could they hear her? Was any one alive or even awake who could help her? She emptied out her mind as best she could and went within herself, crying out her Mother's name.

There was no answer. She prayed that 'Ro was just sleeping. Again she tried, pushing with her mind and calling out for any of her people... She was rewarded with a very feeble answer that was almost more of a whisper than a roar. She feared for her friend's life, but she had a small smile because she knew Katrina would never let her down as long as there was any life left within her small, lithe body.

Katrina could not remember a time that she had ever felt this weak and powerless. She looked over at her beloved sister, Celina, who was still passed out. They were both healers, descended from a long line of healers. They had always been able to handle any healing problems that had come up, but this time had been different. They needed Earth medicine which neither possessed.

That was something they had not been taught on their beloved Alderberan. She doubted if even their beloved grandmother could have done better than they, but it hadn't worked for more than a day. The constant wear and tear on their powers was almost killing them, and she knew if they didn't get help, it could happen soon. {{{What's wrong, little sister?}}} she now asked Prue, praying that she was simply telling them that she was on the way back but knowing in her heart something was terribly wrong.

Prue did her best to thought speak all that happened to her, not leaving out a single gruesome detail despite some of it made her sick to the stomach, especially seeing the blonde eaten. Katrina did not understand all Prue revealed to her, but one thing was clear. {{{Prue, you must follow the blue, furry creature. He will lead you to the doctor. Help him get Doctor Richards back and bring him here as quickly as you can.}}}

{{{Your Mother is not awake, but she is not dead, only sleeping. Do not fear. The Goddess will help you... Follow him and let me know what happens. Celina and I will do all we can... Love you. Be strong...}}} She ceased talking as she, too, passed out...

Prue jumped to her feet and began to run in the direction the howls were coming from. She would help him free the doctor and then take the doctor home to save her people... Fear gave her feet wings...

* * *

Ace lay on a rock, moonbathing. He had already bathed and washed his hair. His best friend, Clyde, was now picking off imaginary head lice and eating them. Ace knew that he didn't have bugs in his hair, because he kept himself too clean to ever get them, but the scratching felt good so he lay there, enjoying the scents of the night freshly washed in the storm that had been raging earlier that night.

He longed for a mate, but none had been given to him. His family was huge and they all cared greatly for him, but most of the time, they were busy with their own children, leaving him alone except for Clyde. He could hear them in the semi-darkness, crooning their babes to sleep. Theirs was a peaceful world full of beauty, and although danger lurked on the outside, Ace had managed to keep it out there and never here, in the green wood, had even a single hunter dared to enter their sanctuary. He needed a soul mate to be with him in their paradise.

He sighed as he turned over and began to call out to his animal friends in their own languages to tell them good night. He could speak in all their tongues and talked to even the lowliest snakes. All knew if they needed help, they had but to ask and Ace would do his very best to help meet their needs. "Clyde, sometimes I am so lonely I feel like howling!"

He was about to let go when a horrendous howling assailed their ears. "Some one is in pain," Ace explained. "Maybe we should check it out?"

Clyde let Ace know how very stupid it would be for them to wander off in the darkness to seek out who was in trouble but rapidly lost the argument when a sliding sound was heard, then a great big splash, and some one screaming in fright for help. Ace dived in the water and swam in the direction of the frantic splashing.

* * *

Jack was hoping not to see the Shaman again before they managed to slip away and was highly disappointed to see that not only was he to see him again but he was waiting for them, standing by Tonto. What would he do to them? Jack wondered, wanting to pull Hansel behind him and run in the opposite direction as fast as he could.

The Shaman moved closer to Hansel, "My son, I know why you are leaving. May you be blessed in your journey. I will pray that the Great Spirit keeps you safe." He took a small pouch out of his bigger one and, reaching out to take Hansel's right hand, poured its contents therein. "Wear this, and it will keep you safe."

He glared balefully at Jack. Jack looked boldly back at him only to see that the Shaman winked at him where Hansel could not see as he was busy looking at the amulet. Maybe the old guy didn't hate him after all.

Hansel looked up at the Shaman who had become the closest thing he'd ever known to a father with his questions and emotions shining clearly in his blue eyes. He hated to have to leave him, especially now after having just returned to him and the rest of their people, but he knew it was the only way. He couldn't leave Jack. He loved him and had to do whatever he could to protect him.

There was so much he ached to tell the Shaman who had embraced him and welcomed him into his family more than any other man ever had, but he knew that Jack and he could not wait to leave for the longer they waited, the more his people would start to look questioningly in his way. Hansel knew instinctively that the Shaman had not told the others yet of what was happening. He would only reveal their departure and the danger they were all in to them in the morning, and even then only partially so.

"Thank you," he said and tried to convey, in his gaze, just what all he was thanking him for. He was grateful for his understanding and what he was doing to help Jack and himself, but far more so, he was eternally thankful for his love and kindness and everything he'd ever done for Faith and himself. He smiled weakly as he thought of Faith and slowly draped the amulet around his neck. "Try not to let her go too crazy?" he asked softly, his eyes shimmering.

"Your sister has her own path that she must follow and no one can control the wind, but I'll try for you, my son." The Shaman then reached for Jack's hand before Jack knew it and, taking Hansel's hand, placed them in each other's hands. He held them between his and pressed them gently together, telling them both by his actions that he approved of their being together. He slowly released them and stepped back... "Return when you feel it safe, my son. I'll give your sister your good-byes."

Hansel fought to keep his tears at bay. He knew that Indian men did not often hug, but he had been in the white man's world too long. He stepped forward and, before the Shaman could back away, wrapped his arms around and hugged him tightly. Then, not daring to look him in the eye lest he see the tears within his gaze, he turned away, swiftly mounted Tonto, and held his hand down for his sweet Gypsy.

Jack felt guilty for taking Hansel away from his people, but he felt greedy as well because he wanted to keep him for himself. He looked apologetically at the Shaman and saw him wipe away a lone tear before he took his love's offered hand and let him pull him up behind him on Tonto. He moved as close against Hansel as he could and held on tightly to his waist with his head leaned against his back as the mighty horse took off at a pace that would have caused Jack to fall off if he had not been holding on so tightly. He closed his eyes and waited for their journey's end, hoping they would be safe and able to be together to live and love safe from his enemy...

* * *

Big, brown eyes from a small, pale face haunted his mind as he ran through the forest, his muscular legs bounding faster than they'd moved in years. The hammering of his heart echoed his constant howls as he searched for his son. Brendan could not have been his son any more than if he had given birth to him himself. Their blood might not be the same, but their souls were entwined forever, and their hearts had been connected forever since the first day he had laid eyes upon the little, lost souls who had appeared on his doorstep.

He had known the Gypsy lad, Jack, somewhat well from having befriended his family when they had lived near Los Almas several years before, but he had never met Brendan before that day. From the moment he'd seen him, he knew the small boy would change his life forever. He had coaxed him slowly out of his determination to draw up within himself and managed to get him playing with one of his harmless experiments before Jack had drawn him aside and whispered to him the horrors they had experienced.

He had not wanted to let Jack go, but there had been no arguing with the child and he had been unable to blame him. Jack refused to abandon his people and had to return to them, and though he'd promised to wait for Hank to go with him while Hank took Brendan to his Indian friends for safety, he had snuck away while Hank had been gone. There was barely a day that had gone by since then that Hank had not looked at his own son and wondered what had become of the boy who had risked everything to save his friend.

He had not been surprised when Jack had not returned and knew he must be dead, but he had promised that the same fate would never befall his Brendan. It had taken him a long time to earn Brendan's trust for the boy had been abused badly not only by the evil Sorceress who had captured him but by his own family. Hank had not realized just how badly until Brendan's screams had awakened him one night. He had leapt from his bed and ran as though his own life depended on his reaching Brendan, fearing that the Sorceress had finally found them, but when he had reached him, he'd found that he was only sleeping.

His arms ached even more to hold his beloved son against his fur as he remembered cradling him that night and hearing his cries of how he was evil for he had eaten his pet. Hank had talked to him, doing his best to reassure him that he was not evil but only a sweet boy with a strong, animal side that he fought constantly against and would never fail to control as long as he did so and to reassure him that he could not have eaten his pet goldfish for he was far too sweet, gentle, and kind to ever harm another living being.

Brendan's sobs had soaked his night clothes as he'd related the stories of how his parents had constantly abused him for not being more like him; how they had persistently set traps for any one who dared to befriend him, tried to force him to eat them, and then ate them before him while he was chained with silver and unable to do anything to save his friends; and how he had awakened one morning to find his father sneering down at him and the tiny bones of the fish he'd begged and begged to be allowed to keep in his mouth. Hank had stayed with him all through that night and through many nights afterward.

He had promised so much. He had sworn he would never know heartache or fear again as long as he was there to watch over and protect him. He had vowed to never let any one hurt him again. And he had failed. When most men would have dropped their heads in shame, Hank threw his back and let another long howl release. He was following Brendan's scent and knew it was fresh, but his son was moving fast and still in the company of the Trolls.

Hank knew now, in the sinking pit of his stomach and his fearful heart, that those Trolls were much more than bumbling dolts. They were connected to the Sorceress, and they were dragging his son straight into her foul clutches! The misery of his heart howled through his scream of Brendan's name, and tears stung his eyes as he kept running after them.

He might die this night, but that was no longer of concern to him. The one reason why he had fought to stay alive after having ruining his life, destroying himself, and losing Bobby was because Brendan needed him to protect him and keep him safe from the evils that still wanted him, but he had failed him just as he'd always failed everybody who'd ever truly loved him. If he died this night, so be it, but before his life was extinguished, he would do everything he possibly could to save his son. He howled again, never knowing that the one man beside his son who could still reach his heart was haunted by his cries . . .

* * *

With each howl that resonated through the forest, Bobby looked up, his pain written clearly in his brown eyes. As the howls faded away, his head would drop back to his chest only to lift again at the next sound of Brendan's name being called through the forest by some animal. Finally, thinking that no one had paid attention to him because none of the Indians or the lone cowboy amongst them really knew him, Bobby got to his feet, muttered about going to walk the lizard, and slipped away.

As soon as he could, he ducked out of eyesight. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he had to fight to keep himself from shaking. It couldn't be Hank, but yet the voice howling Brendan's name sounded uncannily like that of his love. He couldn't just continue to ignore it, even if he knew it was impossible!

Perhaps it was some . . . thing trying to lure him out to make a meal of him? So be it, Bobby thought. He'd wanted to die ever since losing Hank and had held on to the thing his life had become only for Brendan's sake and the promises he had made his beloved aloud and to the boy silently. If something else attacked him, killed him, even ate him, well, he couldn't help that, could he?

He crept away from the village, following the direction of the howls, but a pair of sky blue eyes noted his departure. Vin waited to give Bobby some time ahead of him, then slipped away from his Indian friends with a touch of his hat to salute them, and silently followed Bobby. He knew the lad was heartbroken, but he knew, too, that there were things crawling in the forest that night that no man should have to face alone. When the time came for him to reveal himself to Bobby, the other man would be pissed, but at least he'd be alive.

* * *

Dawn stirred at the sound of a smooth, masculine voice. Her brown eyes fluttered open, and she looked around her without raising her head. Her forehead creased in confusion. Who was singing, and why?

"One of the many.. we call the witches,  
the healers, the teachers, of the wisdom of the earth."

It was the cat! the girl realized with shock. He was singing to Paige, his tail slowly swishing to and fro, and they both looked so sad! She listened to his words and wondered. Were Witches really all the things he claimed? She'd always heard they were so evil, but then she'd been told that by her mother and sister, who had fed her lies all her life . . . She listened in silence, making no sign that she had awoken and marveling at all that she heard.

"And the people grew in the knowledge she gave them,  
herbs to heal their bodies, smells to make their spirits whole.

Hear them chanting healing incantations,  
calling for the wise ones, celebrating in dance and song..."

Cole gazed at the beautiful scene before him. Salem singing and curled up in Paige's arms made him smile. He knew Dawn was awake and confused even more then she usually was.

Cole pulled Piper close. "Listen," he told her, "to the words he sings. They tell the story of what happened to your people. He had to fight to keep the tears out of his eyes." He had been there but could not save every one... The pain weighed in his heart like a hundred pound stone... It was time for her to know more of the tragedy that had befallen her people... He would be there to hold her ...

* * *

By the light of the moon, Ace's mouth fell open in astonishment for there before him was a tiny foal with a horn sticking out of the center of his forehead! He talked calmly, trying to soothe the frightened baby horse. "He must have slipped in the storm and got that thing imbedded in his forehead," he told Clyde. "We'll get that nasty thing out of your head, my young friend, as soon as we can," he promised him. The young colt had no idea what the human was talking about but was very glad that some one had come to help.

"How did you get here?" Ace asked. "Do you have a name?"

"Jamey," the colt said. " During the storm I got lost from my Mother. I couldn't find my way home though I tried. I know she's looking for me. Can you help me get home again? Please..." He looked up at Ace with the saddest blue eyes Ace had ever seen.

"Sure I will! Don't worry! As soon as the sun comes up, Clyde and I will help you find your way home again."

Ace had finally reached shallow water where he turned Jamey loose and helped him find his hooves. Jamey ran up on land and shook like a big dog. Heavy droplets of water sprang from his hide, wetting Clyde who scolded him.

"Let's go home and get an early start in the morning," Ace told them both and headed for the treehouse he shared with Clyde, the other two following.

* * *

He had no idea how long he had ran when the forest broke before him. He stumbled into a small clearing and gazed in disbelief at the desk that sat in the center of it and the man sitting behind it with his hands calmly folded before him. The man lifted his head and gazed at the place where he stood so intently that he felt certain he could see him despite his disguise.

"Come," the man spoke at last, "and join me."

"You can see me?"

"No," the man admitted, "but I know you are there. Come," he repeated. "It is safe here. The evil that hunts you as you hunt it can not find this place. None can come here without my permission."

He hesitated. "How did you know I was here?"

"The whispers through the night speak loudly, lad. Do not be afraid." He spread his arms wide as he stood and walked around his desk. An inviting smile graced his handsome face. "You are amongst friends here."

A slight breeze swung the sign above the stranger's desk. He glanced at it, then turned his focus back to the man who was dressed in finery from the top hat on his head to the smooth, jet black boots upon his feet. "They call you the Hatter," he observed. "Why? What is this place?" Again his gaze skittered around him, taking in the shelves filled with all sorts of bottles. He could not read their labels, but the colorful liquids inside warned him that they were much more than the rum he drank.

"They call me the Hatter," the other man said, tipping his hat, "because I am constantly wearing my hat upon my sleeve, if you will, and helping the down-trodden souls who wander into my forest."

"Your forest?"

"My forest. My home." Replacing his hat upon his head, he asked, "Are you going to stay in those shoes all night, or are you going to be brave enough to sit and join me for a drink?"

* * *

Blue eyes flew open as a woman screamed. Clark jumped to his feet, glanced at the bed where the man he had rescued earlier that night still slept soundly, and raced from the room. Closed doors opened as he ran pass them and swung on their hinges in his wake. Clark reached his parents' bedroom just in time to see his father lifting his rifle off of its rack. "Dad?" he asked.

"Stay here," Jonathan firmly told his only son. "Protect your mother. There's a monster out there."

"A monster?" Clark repeated doubtfully. He'd never heard his father profess belief in such before, and whenever he had mentioned superstitions as a young boy, Jonathan had always quickly told him that they were not to be believed in and reminded him that a man made his own fate. His eyes flitted to where his mother stood by the open window, clutching her nightgown to her chest. "Mom?"

Martha, whose face was as pale as a sheet, nodded. "There's a monster out there, Clark. I - I don't know what it is. I've never heard of anything before with blue fur."

Clark looked dubiously at both of his parents, his forehead furrowed in his confusion. "Blue fur?"

Martha nodded while Jonathan gave his son a stern look. "We both saw it. It just ran through the yard howling." He finished loading his rifle, shut the barrel, pointed his gun downwards, walked over to Martha, and drew her into a hug.

Clark looked away as they kissed long and passionately as his parents often did, then returned his attention to them when his father spoke again. "Clark, load my other gun and keep the house locked down. Don't open the door for any one. Protect your mother and the young man you rescued tonight."

"Yes, sir." Clark was surprised by the ferocity of Jonathan's hug and the fear he saw pass through his eyes for just a moment before they hardened. "Dad, are you sure you have to do this?"

"I'm sure," he said. "I have to protect our family, and help's too far away." He strode from the room without another word or looking back.

"Be careful, Jonathan!" Martha called behind him. Then she pressed a hand to her lips to silence the sob that rose within her mouth. Why were things always happening to her family? She knelt before her bed, steepled her hands together before her, and began to pray.

Clark looked down at his mother, his mind whirling. He glanced at his father's other gun uncertainly, but knowing that his dad would be displeased if he did not do as he had told him, he took the gun, loaded it with fingers that he had to fight to keep from trembling, and then walked from the room to make certain all doors and windows were securely shut.

* * *

With his love's arms wrapped tenderly around him, Hansel felt a little of the weight that hung upon his heart lift. He was doing the right thing, he knew, and they would return to his family. This time he wouldn't be gone as long as he had been before, and when he returned, he would stay. The white man's world offered a lot, but it could never offer the love his family gave him. His blue eyes glanced down at Jack's tanned hands against his vest. He had discovered a great deal of new things in the white man's world, but it had taken love to guide him back to where he belonged.

"Thank you, Jack," he spoke quietly, his voice full of the emotions that bubbled in his heart. They had known each other for such a short while, but yet Jack had already made his world more complete than it had been since Derek had led him away from his family. At last he knew where he belonged and had no more doubts, and soon, just as soon as they found a way to defeat the evil that haunted his love and succeeded in doing so, happiness would abound for them all.

Jack laid his cheek against his love's back and gave him a gentle squeeze. How he loved this wonderful man that Kali had blessed him with and how he feared losing him! The things that the Shaman had told him scared him half to death. What if they were true? He would not speak them aloud, and perhaps, he reasoned, keeping them hidden, they would never come to fruition.

Now he wondered where Hansel was taking them. The morning would come soon, and he knew that it would be a hot one. Would they find shelter before the noon day sun looked down upon them? He hoped so.

To pass the time, he lost himself in a daydream where there was a lot of cool water and only the two of them with all the time in the world. He envisioned taking Hansel's clothes off one piece at a time and kissing him on the exposed area... It would not take them long to seek the water. Jack felt tremors run through his body as he imagined Hansel's hands upon him and his lips paying homage to his body as only Hansel could...

How could the predictions come true when the mere thought of the music they would be making together made Jack so hard that the constant jogging of the horse almost erupted him. Only Hansel made him feel that way...and he was having a hard time containing himself...

Hansel moaned as he felt Jack's sword stroke him from behind. "Darlin'," he called, "if ya keep on touching me like that, we're gonna have to take a break . . . " Yet, as much as Hansel longed to answer Jack's call, he knew they could not afford to for they had barely started out and his people did not lay far behind them. They had to put distance between them, or else his family might be lost. He groaned again as he felt another stroke just below his gunbelt . . .

"Sorry," Jack spoke against Hansel's back. "Not!" he thought to himself. He tried to focus on other things and slowly got his "brain" under control. He reminded himself, {You gotta figure a way out of this, and you can't tell Hansel...}

* * *

There was something out there, Smee thought as he gazed out at the night. He could still see something burning in the far distance, but he could smell trouble on the wind as well. In Neverland, the scent had always preceded a visit from the dratted boi, but here, far from Neverland and safe from the infernal miscreant who had coldly cut off his love's hand and fed it to the nearest crocodile, Smee did not know what it could be.

Then his ears quivered as they picked up the sound of a long, lonely howl. The next howl sent to his teeth to chattering. The third made his face shake and his glasses bob up and down on his round nose; the fourth buckled his knees together. By the time he heard the fifth howl, Smee was shaking all over. Then eyes appeared out in the yard, toward James' garden, eyes that glowed green in the blackness of the night. "JAMES!" Smee screamed as he ran for the bed and leapt onto the safety of his beloved Captain.

* * *

When they reached the tree, Jamey stood on shaking legs, gazing up at the treehouse. He shook his head, knowing he could never climb up and was about to start crying again, thinking about being all alone for the rest of the night when Clyde swung out of the darkness, holding something in his hands and telling him to hold still while he got it fastened around him and then Ace would pull them both up to safety.

Before Jamey could free himself from the thing that Clyde had swiftly hooked around him, he found himself dangling in midair and then in the treehouse. "Does that thing hurt?" Ace asked him, after freeing him of the harness.

"What thing?" Jamey asked, totally mystified.

"That thing sticking out of your head?"

"That's my horn!" Jamey explained.

"Horn?"

"Yes, all unicorns have them!"

Ace was so shocked that he fell back on to his butt, his breechcloth flapping. "I thought they were all gone away a long time ago?"

"Some but not all. Kat takes care of us and keeps us safe. She's gonna be mad at me for getting lost! She may even come looking for me, but if she does, you gonna be in trouble."

"Why is that? All I've done is try and help you. Tomorrow Clyde and I will take you home. She should be grateful for our help. "

"Wait and see," he predicted with a strong enough determination that worried Ace.

"Go to bed now, over there in the corner; morning will come soon."

Jamey walked over to the corner and tried to settle down. Ace went to bed with the worry of Kat on his mind... No women ever came here so he doubted anything would come of Kat. He fell into a deep dream where some one was trying to kill him and Ace kept running all night, one step ahead of the unseen Kat...

* * *

Faith ran with blood pounding in her ears and pouring down her body. Every predator in the woods would be after her from all the blood she was spilling, but they weren't her concern. She had to focus on one thing, past the pain, past the heartache, past the terror of knowing that Tornado lay dying and there was nothing she could do but pray to the Gods, whom she far too often wondered if They cared, that Dawson would reach her people and bring them back to Tornado in time. And it was all her fault! Damn her, damn her, damn her!

Were they far enough away? How far had they gone? She didn't know, couldn't tell. She could barely see for the blood that ran in her eyes. Then she smelled him; heard his heavy, muscular body drop on quiet feet behind her; and felt his foul breath run over her long, black hair made stringy from the blood that now matted it. She whirled to meet him, her leg kicking out toward where his groin should be.

The hunter stepped back, grabbed her foot, and snatched it swiftly in the opposite direction. A scream split from Faith's mouth before she could stop herself as the bone crunched. She fell, biting her lip as she went down to silence her scream. She would not give him the pleasure of knowing just how badly he had hurt her! Yet, simultaneously, she told herself to focus not just on her pain but on Tornado's and let this bastard have it all back in dynamite.

She didn't get the chance for as she fell, her broken leg refusing to hold her, her attacker moved again. His claws scraped the tender flesh of her face, neck, and shoulders as he closed his fist around her neck once more and slammed her back into a tree. Somewhere a bird took off screeching. Acorns fell down upon them.

And from deeper within the forest, Faith heard the crackling sound of a fire being lit. Pain roared through her body, but she tossed her head back and turned her darkly grinning face in her captor's direction. Blood splattered from her lips as she smirked at him. "Ya done fucked up now."

The big, blonde man's green eyes flashed as he snarled at her, his fangs glistening, "Just how stupid are ya, whore?"

"I ain't a whore. 'm a bitch. An' you're 'bout to learn th' difference." The pain screaming through her body flared red-hot with each word she spoke, but still Faith persisted, knowing her most wicked pals ever were on their way. She kicked out with her good leg and finally connected with the bounty hunter's balls.

He dropped her with a howl. She tried to catch herself but failed. Even as she landed hard upon her bare bottom, her broken leg jutting out at a bad angle, she raised her voice. "COME ON, BOYS! LET'S PARTY!"

"YER CRAZY!" the hunter screeched. He slashed her face, and Faith grinned right through the fresh blood that spilled from her face.

"Told ya I was."

* * *

He had had the shoes on for too long, the Hatter knew though he would not admit it, and he was thirsty. His throat was dry from not having drank even a single drop of anything since early that morning, and the longer he gazed at the bottles, the thirstier he became. He could no longer hear the Hunter, but still he knew he could not be long behind him. "I should leave."

"You should stay." The Hatter walked to one of his many shelves and picked up one bottle at a time as he spoke. "What would you be your pleasure, my young friend: Happiness, Love, Joy, Contentment, Pleasure, Climax, Innocence?"

Innocence? the man thought. There was a drink called Innocence? It sounded absolutely delightful, and he was so thirsty. Innocence, he mused as he took a step forward. He had not felt that since his family had been slaughtered by the hands of the one who was coming after him, who would, if he played his cards right, deliver himself straight into his hands. He had a good heading on him. Surely one drink could not hurt? "How much?" he questioned, knowing he had nothing left.

"For you, my friend, a special bargain price this one night." Hatter smiled brightly at him. "Step out of the shoes, and I'll give you a drink."

"For free?" His eyes searched the seller's. He knew this had to be a trick.

"You're thirsty," Hatter commented, "and have been on this mission of yours for a very long time. When was the last drink you had? Not merely the water the brook told me you drank this morning. A real drink."

He could not remember. "But the Hunter . . . "

"Has already passed by here. We can not be seen here in my own little bizarre pocket of the universe."

He edged steadily closer. "But I saw you."

"Because you were in need and of good heart," Hatter explained, holding out the drink. "Join me, lad. Just a sip. What could it hurt?"

What could it hurt indeed? And he was so thirsty . . . He took the final step forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for the shotglass.

Hatter swept it away from him just before he could touch the glass that sparkled with the shimmering liquid inside. "Huh huh . . . " he said in a light, teasing tone. "The shoes first." His smile warmed him. "I want to see the face of the man who is foolish enough to chase after the Hunter."

He looked from the man to the drink he offered and finally stepped out of his shoes. Hatter's eyes roamed his firm, lean body before coming to rest on the handsome face with a thick, brown mane and cautious eyes of a slighter lighter shade than his hair. "What is your name, lad?"

"William," the man told him, holding his head proudly and reaching for the drink. Hatter let him take it this time. "William Turner the Second." He took a cautious sip of Innocence and felt it immediately begin to tingle on its journey down his throat. He closed his eyes in relish. It was the best thing he had ever tasted!

When his eyes reopened, he found himself looking at a branch that hung low over Hatter's desk. It was swaying as though something walked upon it, but he could see nothing. In front of his very eyes, a large, purple cat began to slowly appear. He looked at the glass he held with a quirked brow.

"Go ahead," Hatter told him, gesturing him forward with his hands. "Sit. Drink. Take a load off, man. My friends tell me you haven't done that in years. All work and no play makes little Willie a dull boy." He grinned at his own joke. "You're among friends here, and we're safe."

The big, purple cat stretched across the tree branch purred. "Hatter always speaks the truth." He yawned leisurely before lifting his furry lips in the biggest, most tooth-filled grin William had ever seen. "Mostly." He vanished then as quickly from the sight as he had appeared, his smile hovering in the air a moment behind the rest of his body.

Will looked from where the cat had been to where the Hatter smiled reassuringly at him. Just one drink couldn't hurt, and it did taste so good . . . He raised the glass to his parched lips and downed the rest of the Innocence.

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Notes: The song Salem sings is the Burning Times, is copyrighted to its proper owners, and is used without permission.

If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at ficcersuniteDOT proboardsDOTcom today!


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

James sat up in bed, instinctively holding his beloved Smee close, his mustache all aquiver. "What is it, my beloved? A bad dream?" He was about to ask Smee if he wanted him to chase his demons away when the howls he had heard in his dreams erupted yet again. He pushed Smee behind him on the bed, even as he bounced out of bed and over to the window where he could peer outside.

Two glowing eyes stared at him in the dark, but whatever it was was not making the howls. "There is definitely something out there!" James exclaimed. "Two somethings, one a howling beastie of some kind and the other is looking straight at us now. His eyes are glowing... Shall we go and see about the one in my garden?"

"I-I-I-I'm not sure that'd be a g-g-good idea, Capt'n," Smee sputtered out as the howling grew closer. The green eyes vanished from James' sight as the howls resounded through the yard.

Smee jumped off of the bed, ran to James' side, and threw his pudgy arms around him. "Come away from there," he cried, "before it sees you and wants to eat you like that nasty crocodile!" He shook now both from the approaching howls and the memories that haunted every moment of their lives. "That nasty, nasty beast wanted to eat you so bad, love, but we got away from it finally! I don't know what that thing is! I know it isn't a croc, but we mustn't risk you! We can't risk you!" he cried, pulling James away from the window.

"We must not risk you either, my love. Perhaps it will simply disappear in the morning light." He shuddered at the memory of the evil croc and, even more evil, that terrible boi who was now stuck in a world of his own making. James could not remember how Smee had got them to safety, but he knew that he had saved them both.

He would do everything in his power to keep his beloved safe, including from whatever prowled out there in the dark. Perhaps, as Smee had said, if they did go out they might get eaten. Safer in bed, he thought as he led Smee back to their bed and covered Smee's ears with his hands. Pressing his lips to Smee's, he pushed him back into the big, feather bed, always ready for loving his soul mate and making them both forget the dangers on such a night as this one...

Smee trembled as James kissed him, but it was an altogether different kind of trembling than the kind that the howling monster outside evoked. He tried to pay rapt attention to the howls to make certain the beast was not trying to come inside with them, but soon James had him forgetting everything but how much he loved him and how wonderful he felt with his hands and mouth caressing his body and rekindling the flame he had only ever felt, and would always only ever feel, for his beloved Captain.

James continued pledging his undying love to his beloved. He could think of no more wonderful way to spend the rest of their night together. He planned to go and check his garden first thing when he woke and bring back at least one luscious red rose to give Smee. It was then that Smee nibbled a particular vulnerable spot that made James lose all coherent thought and give himself completely up to Smee...

* * *

Jack thought back to the Shaman. Why was he blowing hot and cold from one minute to the next? One minute, he was telling him they couldn't be together, and then the next, he was putting their hands together as though he wanted them to be together and was blessing their union. Maybe if he knew where Hansel was taking them he could come up with a plan. "Where are we going?" Jack asked...

Hansel and Tonto stopped as one at Jack's question. Where were they going? All this time, Hansel had only been thinking that they had to get away from his family to keep them safe, but they had to go somewhere! They couldn't just wander about the forest!

An idea struck him, and he smiled, suddenly far more relaxed. The tension swept out of his body at the mere thought of the ideal place for them to go. After all, wherever they ended up, they'd need to have supplies, and where better to go than his favorite supplier? "A secret place," he said with a smile and whickered to Tonto.

Tonto's ears flickered. Then he tossed his head with a tooth-filled grin, turned back around, and set off at a brisker pace than the trot he'd calmed down to. "You'll like it there," Hansel told Jack, "and we have to get supplies. And, by the way," he leaned back against him and slid his body across his, "never apologize for following your instincts, hot stuff. You burn me like the sun burns a dying man in the desert in the middle of Summer! I'd like nothing better than to take you right here and let you have your way with me, but we can't. Not yet. Maybe when we reach the Hatter's but not here. It's not safe."

Jack grinned to himself. Hansel sure had a way with words that made him feel even hotter! "Who's the Hatter?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't one of Hansel's prior lovers and knowing, from the sound of his love's voice, he was some one special to him. He sensed in Tonto's reactions that the horse liked to go there too. Would he like the place and the man? He'd try to for Hansel's sake, but all the while he felt jealousy raising its ugly head...

"A friend," Hansel assured him, already expecting jealousy. Any time he had ever made so much of a mention of a man who Derek didn't know, Derek had always jumped to the worst possible conclusion. He didn't really think Jack would be that way, but yet he couldn't help dreading what he felt to be the inevitable. He hoped Jack would give Hatter a chance; Derek never would. "I get my ingredients for the brownies you enjoyed from him." He smiled at the memory of finding his brownies eaten, discovering that Jack had eaten them, and the deliciousness that had followed thereafter and was still lingering on to this very moment!

"Those were very tasty," Jack spoke softly as he relished the eating yet again and the memories that followed that were hotter then the desert sun. "I am looking forwards to meeting him; I would like to thank him for the pleasure they gave me..."

Hansel beamed. Jack was actually interested in meeting his friend!

"Why is he called the Hatter?"

"Good question," Hansel replied with a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. "There's more than one reason, but I'll tell ya what, love, you meet him and then you tell me why you think it is." He wondered what Jack would think of Hatter. There was no one else in all the world like either of the two men, and he was lucky to know them both and blessed to have Jack's love.

That was what it was, wasn't it? Jack did love him? Didn't he love Jack? What other word could possibly come close to describing the wonderful way Jack made him feel? Despite leaving his people, he could scarcely remember a time when he had ever been happier.

Keeping one hand on Tonto's mane, he let his other hand fall to Jack's. He ran his fingers gently across his flesh, stroking first the backs of his hands and then his fingers. He knew he should be concentrating, but he just felt so amazing . . .

* * *

Clark paused outside the door of the spare bedroom where the stranger he had rescued earlier that evening slept. Should he knock? The man needed his rest after the experience he had had. What if he was awake? He'd watched him for hours, Clark reasoned, and the handsome stranger had shown no signs of awakening. Would he wake? What if some kind of damage had been done inside his body, something they couldn't see? They really needed the doctor!

They really needed help, Clark thought again as he remembered his father tracking the monster alone. He should be out there with him. But what if he was? The creature might not be a real monster. After all, if his parents had any idea of the things he could do, they might think he was a monster too. Maybe he was. He certainly couldn't be human.

Clark shook his head as he tried to clear his thoughts. He could mope later. Now he had to make sure his mother and the stranger were safe, or else saving his life earlier would have been pointless, just like most other things he did seemed to be. With his full lips pulled down into a pout, Clark swung the door soundlessly open, crossed over the floor with his boots falling silently upon the wooden boards, and checked the windows.

He caught movement in the bed as he turned back around and peered closer. "Are you awake?" he whispered, the hairs on his arms standing on end.

* * *

"One of the many.. we call the witches,  
the healers, the teachers, of the wisdom of the earth.

And the people grew in the knowledge she gave them,  
herbs to heal their bodies, smells to make their spirits whole."

Paige did not need to ask who the leader of the women was. She knew that she had been her grandmother. She listened with rapt attention, looking up only when shadows fell across Salem and herself. She saw Cole holding Piper close against his chest, his arms wrapped tenderly around her, as they, too, listened. The sisters smiled sadly at each other.

If Witches were so kind, Dawn wondered, why did so many people hate them? Why did every one say they were evil, green hags? Piper's and Paige's mother and grandmother had been Witches. Did that make them Witches too? Neither woman was ugly, and both had always only ever been kind to her. They were more family to her than her own mother and sister had ever been.

And Cole was a Demon, but yet he wasn't red and didn't have horns. He couldn't be evil. He'd saved them from the true evils, and those had been put into their lives by human beings! Or at least she thought Blanche, Emma, her mother, and the rest were humans. What if they weren't? She certainly never would have thought that Cole and her best friends were anything weird! She listened silently, being careful not to move lest she might disturb Salem's singing. The singing, she marveled, of a _cat_ who was obviously so much more!

"Hear them chanting healing incantations,  
calling for the wise ones, celebrating in dance and song..."

Piper watched Salem with wide eyes. She remembered this song! Her grandmother had sang it to her when she was little, but she'd always told her that it was only a story. Over the years, Piper had forgotten about it, but now it was beginning to come back. Softly, she sang, "Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna..."

Paige looked at her sister with eyes full of questions, and Piper realized that she was beginning to remember too. "Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna..." the sisters sang together.

* * *

Sudden laughter erupted from Hansel. Without his brownies, he'd never felt better than the way Jack made him feel! His man was better than any brownies had ever been! Derek had fussed at him nonstop about his brownies, which was one of the reasons why Hansel had mainly kept them to his room, and now, at last, his brownies had been replaced! He could just imagine Derek's face if he was to tell him that his brownies had been replaced by the man who had taught him what real love was all about!

He sombered suddenly, realizing what would happen next. Derek's face would indeed be priceless, but then he would hit him again and again and again . . . He shook off the memories and clicked to Tonto, who began to run. Perhaps he could use some brownies after all.

Jack stroked the back of Hansel's neck gently. What was wrong? One minute, Hansel was laughing and frisky; the next minute, it was as though some one had dumped a load of horse manure on him. "Baby, what's wrong?" he questioned anxiously. He leaned slightly to the side and could see his face. There was a cloud of pain on his beloved's face. For one second, he thought Hatter might have caused it, but he knew better. It had to be that damnable Derek...

"Just . . . thinking," Hansel replied slowly, "remembering." He grinned sadly. "Derek used to raise heck about my brownies. I was just thinking about what'll happen if I see him again and tell him that you've replaced my brownies and him." Realizing how his words might sound, and that they might make Jack think that he wanted to be with Derek again, Hansel rushed to add, "You're so much better than both have ever been!"

The fear Jack had been fighting since the Shaman's words knotted in his stomach and felt like swamp water trying to drown him. If he couldn't be with his beloved Hansel, he'd make sure that Derek would never hurt him again. He leaned forward and kissed Hansel's neck... and then held to him even tighter.

"I love you and I will never let him hurt you again," he vowed. "I will not give you up for any one, and I will never lift my hand to you in anger. I will do harm to any who seek to hurt you ever again. Smile for me, my darling...for when you smile for me its like a thousand butterflies unleash in my stomach seeking to release and dance again for you only... Would that I could take all those sad memories and chase them all away..."

Jack's words brought tears to Hansel's eyes. He brought Tonto to a stop, aching to be able to get down, pull Jack down beside him, and show him just how much his words made him feel. "Get down," he whispered, his emotions choking his voice, "and I'll do so much more than smile . . . " That was it, Hansel knew. This had to be what love was!

* * *

Derek swirled the beer around in his mug as he gazed down at the golden liquid, his face full of trouble. He sighed softly. The storm had finally finished chasing off the rest of his customers, and the saloon had been closed for hours now. Hansel had still not returned, and he had left with that damn Gypsy he'd brought home the night before. Derek ignored the eyes following him as he walked out onto the boardwalk, wrapped an arm partially around the nearest post, leaned against it, and swallowed the remainder of his beer in a single gulp.

Even as he belched, Derek silently berated himself for missing Hansel. What was worse was that he couldn't stop worrying about what had happened to him or what he might be doing with that Gypsy. What did he see in him any way? Gypsies were a lowly people, almost as low as the Indians from which he had saved Hansel from. His brown eyes widened with the thought that popped into his mind next. Surely the Gypsy could not interest Hansel because he reminded him of those creatures Hansel persisted in calling his people?

Derek threw his mug down against the boardwalk and ignored its splintering. Then he looked up as a low growl met his ears. His frightened eyes cast all around the still town, but he saw nothing. Then a howl let loose, and Derek started shaking. A monster rounded the far corner, screaming the name of the town's doctor, and a scream ripped from Derek's lungs.

The big, blue beast bounded his way on all fours. Derek trembled so badly that the heels of his boots knocked together. He turned to run and hit the post. Falling to his knees, he scrambled back inside the saloon only to find Lorne laughing at him. "Shut up!" Derek snapped, jumping immediately back to his feet and blushing the same shade of red as the costumed man's shirt.

Lorne kept laughing, his mug bobbing up and down in his green hand. Derek snatched his mug and slammed it onto the table so hard that it, too, broke. The shards bit into his flesh, bringing blood, and he looked down at his hand in horror. "He's gonna eat me!" he squeaked.

Lorne's laughter finally paused. "Who?" he asked, his red horns drawn together in concern.

"Tha-That . . . That monster out there!" Derek screeched, pointing a shaking finger back toward the boardwalk. Then an idea sprang into his mind. He jumped behind Lorne and shoved him with all his strength out the door.

"Hey!" Lorne protested. Then he, too, heard the approaching howls. He looked up the street, turned a paler shade of green, and shrieked, "Hey! Let me back in!"

"No way!" Derek responded, pushing against the closed door with his entire body as he tried to bring the bolt down. "EAT HIM!" he yelled. "HE'S GOOD FOR NOTHING BUT FOOD! EAT HIM!"

Lorne let out a word that Derek had never heard before even as he pulled the bolt down and secured the door. He gave it a doubtful look as he realized that a wooden board would never stop the monster he had seen. Quickly he scrambled to hide. He could hear Lorne frantically clawing at the door and considered shouting at the monster once more to eat him but decided against it. The little the monster heard from him, the better or else he might eat Lorne and still come after him!

"N-Nice b-beastie," Lorne murmured as he turned around to face the blue beast. He tried to smile at him but was shaking too badly to be able to manage more than a quivering grin.

To his utter amazement, the blue bundle of muscular fur stopped, stood on his hind legs, and turned to look at him. Lorne swallowed so hard that he almost bit his tongue in the process. He placed a hand on his behind in a futile effort to calm his heart's frantic pounding.

"Pardon me, kind sir," the stranger asked, "I do not mean to frighten you by neither my appearance nor my mannerisms, but have you seen the doctor?"

"N-N-N-N-No!" Lorne gasped out, trying very hard not to shake into a puddle of goo.

"Very well. Carry on then." Lorne's heart suddenly ached for the strange monster as he witnessed the depths of heartache and misery shining in his blue eyes before he turned away, pounced back down onto the ground, and took off running again, howling once more. This time Lorne realized that it was Brendan the monster was howling for, and he frowned. Something very serious was wrong! Perhaps he should be looking for his friends? They had been gone an awfully long time.

He shivered as he heard another voice howling and glanced back up at the full moon. He swallowed nervously. He really didn't want to go out there alone, but he also couldn't get back into the saloon. Then he remembered the back door and knew that Derek would never have remembered to lock it. His shoulders sagged as he sighed with relief.

If his friends weren't back when he woke up, he'd go look for them first thing in the morning, but he had no desire whatsoever to become a snack for another Demon. He hurried to get back inside the safety of the saloon, praying he would make it there in one piece and that his friends were alive, well, and simply occupied with far less dangerous matters than all the troubles the full moon always brought with her.

* * *

He trudged wearily along the path in the direction where he hoped the village lay, picking up pieces of their clothing that had been discarded not so long ago. He put his clothes on as he came to them, but he held Faith's clothes to his nose so that he could inhale her beloved scent. A terrible monster had her, and all he could do was to follow in hopes of getting a chance to rescue her after he got help for her beloved horse! He hoped the village would appear soon so that he could get help for Tornado before the gallant horse breathed his last.

The thing that had Faith had not gone in the direction of the village which he could now see coming into view. He began to shout for help and saw that many had come out of their teepees to stare at him. Dawson did not know that he was covered in blood as he staggered forward to fall at the feet of the Shaman who knelt, lifted the boy's face, and looked down into his blue eyes. They spoke together the one word that meant more to them than any other... "Faith..."

"Dead?" the Shaman asked.

Dawson shook his head. "A monster took her and almost killed Tornado! He lies bleeding out there!" Dawson pointed in the direction he had just come from.

Standing and looking at his people who did not speak the white's man tongue, the Shaman explained what had happened, and several of the braves started running in that direction. He looked down at Dawson. "Rest until I return; then we will go after Faith."

He was gone scant seconds before Dawson got shakily to his feet and looked at Sly Fox. "Please find the sign and help me find Faith?" Sly Fox nodded and headed out with Dawson following close behind.

He stopped so suddenly that Dawson almost fell over him... "He take Faith town, that a way," he spoke and pointed off to the West. "Must wait for Grey Fox return. Puny boy stay. We go later."

Dawson didn't wait but took the path heading to town, not sure of how he would but knowing that he had to rescue his beloved before it was too late...

* * *

A soft moan came from the bed and was followed by a scream of frustration as the bald man tried to move and found that he couldn't. He was trapped by all the covers on the bed but didn't feel as though anything was broken. He wanted to sit up and struggled to do so. He wanted to find the boy who had brought him to wherever this place was. Where was he?

Then he looked across the room, and his eyes lit up. There, staring back at him as though he had seen a ghost, was the object of his thoughts and, if he admitted to himself, his desires. This sexy boy with the tight jeans had saved him, but now he was acting as though he had seen the Devil himself...

"Who are you?" His voice sounded raspy to his own ears. "Thank you for saving me. Can you help me get out of this bed?" Why was he pouting? Lex wondered and suddenly had a strong desire to kiss that pout from his perfect lips...

Gazing intently at the boy who had triggered his desires, Lex repeated, "Who are you?" Keeping his eyes glued to the boy's handsome face, he willed him to come closer. If he came closer, Lex would have to touch him, and where that could lead them only time would tell... He stared hungrily at him, licked his lips as though he was anticipating a great feast, and waited...

When he had first heard the muffled scream, Clark had thought that it was the creature his father had lit out after, but when the man sat up and began talking, he slowly began to realize that it was him. He marveled at how handsome the stranger was; never before had he noticed how good any other male looked. The full moon shone upon the stranger's bald head, and Clark realized that even it had a certain delicious appeal to it.

He gave himself a mental shake. His parents really would think he was a monster if they had any notion of the thoughts now racing through his mind, as would the man before him - this poor, innocent man whose life he had saved! He had to get control of himself! What was wrong with him to think such horrible thoughts? It must be the Devil's doing!

He edged slowly forward as he fought to wipe the wicked thoughts from his betraying mind. "My . . . My name's Clark Kent. You're safe. You're at my home. How are you feeling? Are you hurting?"

"I believe I have you to thank for my timely rescue, Clark," he said the name, relishing the sound it made on his lips. "Come closer. I don't bite." {Normally I don't,} he thought to himself, {but in your case, I could make an exception!}

What was it about this brave, young man that turned Lex on so much? he wondered. "I am a bit sore," he admitted. "Maybe if you rubbed me a little, it wouldn't be so uncomfortable? Can you help me get these covers off? They feel like they weigh as much as a bull." {No sudden moves,} he warned himself and stilled himself to the point he almost quivered anticipating Clark's touch...

Clark gulped. Was it his imagination or was this handsome man actually trying to make a move on him? He found he didn't dare look him in the eyes as he slowly walked over to stand beside the bed. "I could," he spoke hesitantly, reaching down and pulling the covers off of him, "come back later . . . "

His blue eyes nearly jumped out of his head, and he swallowed hard as he spied Lex's obvious erection. His hands shook so that he almost dropped the blanket. He blushed crimson and jumped back after tossing the blankets to the foot of the bed. "Hum . . . Per-Perhaps it-it's not m-my at-attention y-you n-need . . . " His eyes cast frightfully around the room, seeking anything to gaze at but Lex's rearing steed. He could almost hear it whicker hungrily in his head!

"Do I frighten you, Clark? I am sorry. I mean you no harm." He could tell the boy was virginal from his reactions to his rod. He hoped he was not so much that he would run from the room. "You caused this," Lex declared unashamedly, boldly gazing upon the boy. "Can you help me?"

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I - " Clark squeaked before finally managing to find his voice. "I caused it? How did I cause it? How could I cause it?" His eyes were wide and wild with fright, and his face was slowly turning from the bright, crimson red it had been to a shade paler due to his shock at Lex's words.

"Yes, you caused it. You make me hot just being near you. This is what happens when a man is attracted to some one; sometimes it is so hard it hurts. Have you never been with a woman that makes you feel that way?" He gazed at Clark, willing him closer. "It's okay to touch me; you won't go blind!" When Clark still hesitated, Lex said, "But maybe you better run away and hide. After all, you are too innocent, and I will corrupt you..."

Clark was in complete shock. Never had a man reacted this way to him, caused such a strong reaction within his body that he was fighting even now to keep from giving in to the strongest temptation he'd ever known in all his life, or talked so boldly to him! "I-I have to go," he managed to squeak at last, "ch-check . . . " He wouldn't add to the confusion of the stranger who he tried to tell himself must have hit his head on something, despite there not being an injury on his bald scalp that Clark had seen, nor to his worry, and besides if he told him what was really happening, he might follow him and he had to have space, and time, to clear his thoughts and rid them of this evil, wanton desire he was feeling!

He could have told him he was going to check on his mother instead, but that would not be entirely truthful and Clark had been raised to never lie unless he was protecting a life. Instead he let his words hang in the air as he stared, wide-eyed, at the man on the bed who claimed that his manhood's stature was because he wanted him. He zipped out the door, running so fast that the door broke partially off of its hinges and was left banging against the wall some time after Clark had abandoned the room.

* * *

Salem resumed,

"There were those that came to power, through domination.  
They were bonded in their worship of a dead man on a cross."

Dawn shivered. She'd never thought of Jesus as being a dead man, but Salem was right! He was!

Paige dropped her gaze from her sister's eyes back to Salem. She knew what was about to come and feared it.

"They sought control of the common people,  
by demanding allegiance to the church of Rome.

And the Pope, he commenced the inquisition,  
As a war against the women, whose powers they feared.

In this holocaust, in this age of evil,  
Nine million European women, they died."

Dawn sat up. "Nine million?" she squeaked, unable to believe her ears.

Piper shivered in Cole's arms. "They were our ancestors, weren't they?" she whispered. "But Grandmother wasn't among them. She couldn't have been!"

"Not amongst those who died," Salem told her, his deep voice rumbling with a purr in between his words. "We were lucky in that we were able to save a few; Penelope was amongst them."

"But nine million?"

Salem gazed intently at Dawn. "Yes, my child. Nine million."

* * *

A crackling sound began from deep within the dark woods. The bounty hunter's feral, green eyes cut to it, but he saw nothing at first. His nose sniffed, and he puzzled over the approaching scents he smelled for he'd never encountered anything like it before. The beings were furry, he noted, and neither small nor large. They had feathers, too. But what in the heck they were, he had no idea from the scent and even less of a guess when they suddenly started swooping in from all parts of the forest at once.

His target grinned up at him, blood dribbling out of her mouth as she spoke, "Ya're gonna get it now." The delight of the Devil danced in her brown eyes, and for once, the man had to concede, that all the stories he'd heard about this particular prey might actually be true. Still, he swore silently as he reached down with reflexes faster than lightning and snatched her up by her throat, she wouldn't escape. This bounty was his, and he'd enjoy watching her be broken in by the law.

They came from everywhere at once, each member of their troop calling out something about a party and how they'd been waiting too long for this party, especially with Faith. They swung from the trees, bounced up and down on doubled pairs of legs, and walked on legs that they used as stilts, their bottoms riding on their feet. The hunter's eyes swept all around him as a low growl issued forth from his throat. He'd never seen anything like these creatures before in all his life!

These . . . monsters! That word brought memories flashing through his head, and for just a moment, he lost control. His hand squeezed Faith's throat so tightly that she thought it was about to break and send her head popping off like her friends' that bobbed all around her, their long, orange ears flapping in their excitement, and he scratched her again as his claws unsheathed. He was a monster. He'd been told that his entire life, and though here was finally playing on the side of the good guys, the most important man in all of existence to him had told him, when last they'd parted, that that would never change anything. He was, as his ex-lover had told him, merely a cat in a rabbit's costume. Nothing he did would ever change what he was . . .

Faith took her opponent's distraction to her advantage as she kicked her good foot up with all her strength into his groin and clawed at his massive chest with her fingernails. Her nails would have cut gashes into most men, but no blood appeared from this wound. When she hit him again in the groin, however, his eyes flew open, a roar escaped him, and he dropped her. As she fell, Faith called to her friends, "HE WANTS MY HEAD, GUYS!"

"HEY, BABE! THAT'S PART OF THE FUN!"

"NOT THE WAY HE PLAYS IT!" she told them. "HE WON'T GIVE IT BACK IF HE TAKES IT!"

"HEY, MAN, THAT AIN'T NO FAIR!"

"YOU CAN'T BE DOING THAT WITH HER HEAD!"

"OR ANY ONE ELSE'S BUT YOUR OWN!"

What were these bobbing, flapping creeps talking about? the bounty hunter wondered. He roared his confusion and struck out with all six claws. His deadly claws shredded the nearest creatures, but as he reached back down for his prey, who was scuttling away as quickly as she could with the use of only one leg, the creatures rebounded upon him. Teeth bit him. Claws smaller than his scratched him. Hands pulled at his neck with surprising strength.

"LEAVE HER ALONE, MAN!"

"DON'T YOU SEE SHE'S SPOOKED? YOU'RE NOT PLAYING THE GAME RIGHT!"

"YEAH, AND NOBODY CHEATS OUR FAITH!"

"OR SPOOKS HER!"

"You really think she's spooked?"

"Sure, man, look at her! She's covered in blood! You know that ain't right! We're supposed to be able to rip off anything and not bleed! Never seen her bleed before."

"Yeah, me neither, and it's all this guy's fault!"

"LET'S SHOW HIM WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BLEED!"

"YEAH!"

"GO FOR THE HEAD!"

"GO FOR THE BALLS!"

"GO FOR THE WHOLE THING!"

He howled as every Fiery in the woods jumped him, piling on top of him and driving him down with their sheer numbers . . . With her heart beating in her ears, Faith tried to make a run for it but stumbled as blinding pain shot through her body . . .

* * *

Brown eyes flew open in the pitch black darkness as a howl echoed through the streets of Los Almas. The arms wrapped tenderly around him pressed harder and pulled him closer. "Don'," Jean-Luc whispered, his baby blue orbs gazing pleadingly into his. "Please don', mon amour. Jest stay. Let dem deal with whatever they've conjurrred up."

"I should go," Addamm told them both. He didn't really want to go. Jean-Luc's loving had been especially good this night and had allowed him to let off the considerable amount of steam that had built within him during his escape from the stables earlier that night.

"Why? Why care for dem? What have dey ever done for any of us?"

"Nothing," Addamm answered truthfully, "but it could be one of ours." Unseen in the dark, the top of his head twitched. "Listen," he spoke. "He's calling for Brendan."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I should find out." He slipped from the bed, freeing himself gently as Jean-Luc tried to hold on to him.

"Addamm, please, just this once?" Jean-Luc asked, hoping that he did not sound as close to begging as he felt. Why must the man he loved always go chasing after danger?

"I'll return," Addamm reassured him as he dressed quickly, checked his weapons for readiness, and hid them amongst his body. He flashed a bright smile, and the shadows played over his handsome face. "We've still business to attend to." Then he was gone, slipping out the window and leaving Jean-Luc to fall back into a bed now made cold from desertion.

"Business," he whispered achingly. "Merde!" Why must it always be business? Why couldn't he just once come to him because he wanted him? Ah, but he was a dreamer! Addamm would never choose him because he wanted him more than any one else; it was a miracle he got him as often as he did! His heart ached, but yet, Jean-Luc knew that if the only way he could have his wonderful Addamm was to share him with the night world, he would do just that for however long he let him.

He reached a hand beneath the covers, touched himself, and moaned Addamm's name as he set to finishing the reaction he'd had the moment he'd seen him naked again.

* * *

The light of the full moon guided him as he made his way, running as fast as he could after Brendan's scent. It amazed him how far a Werewolf and Trolls could swiftly travel. He was surprised the Trolls still accompanied his son's scent for the three had certainly seemed like bumbling, incompetent imbeciles, but still they were there. He fought to keep his mind clear from his fear, but still all sorts of horrible images kept filtering through his brain at a speed as fast as lightning. He almost wished that it was still storming so that the rain might slow them down and the thunder deafen the cries of his panicked heart.

His son! His sweet, innocent baby boy! What were the monsters doing to him? What did she have planned in her sick and twisted mind to do to him? Brendan had a good heart and soul that good that they glowed a bright, white light, but he knew that she would stop at nothing to convert him. She would torture him to no ends if he didn't do as she demanded and never once give him a chance to recover or even kill him. She'd keep him alive just enough that she could continue to torture and torment him every second . . .

But he didn't smell her, he reminded himself, and then another part of his mind argued that he had no idea what she would smell like other than evil . . . He'd never met the wretched woman herself, only heard tales of her. If those stories were to be believed, nothing more evil had walked the earth save the Source himself. The Sorceress would not only love to be the next Source but could most likely very easily gain enough power, with a few more souls sucked into her evil being, to overthrow him and reign Hell herself.

Another howl ripped from Hank's lungs as he tore through the woods on the other side of Los Almas. Then, suddenly, he stopped for a barrage of scents hit his nose. His already-bristled fur once more stood on end. Evil was ahead, but it was not of woman but of man. He loped silently closer until wagons came into view. Then he stopped, watched, and waited to see what this new caravan was and discover whether or not they had any links to her.

Prue ran, following the howls that kept floating on the wind. She didn't dare lose him, because only he knew where the doctor was. Not only did she want to find and rescue the doctor, and this man knew where they had taken him, but his voice kept returning to her. Somewhere deep inside, she had memories that had not unlocked completely yet she knew this man...

It had been a while since she had heard his howl and feared that she had lost him when she heard music and saw a most unusually colored caravan. Then she saw his blue fur shining in the moonlight. Why was he stopping here? Was the doctor here? She had to wait and see what the blue one would do next.

He crouched in the bushes, watching, and then smelled her. "If you are going to persist in following me, Prudence," he whispered without taking his eyes from the caravan, "you might as well come closer so that I may better protect you, child."

"I know you want me gone, but I will not leave you again. My people must have the doctor's help to survive. We must rescue him."

* * *

The women's hearts ached. Piper and Paige had known for years that millions of Witches had died at the hands of the Christians, but hearing it again now had them also remembering the deaths of their mother and grandmother. Tears began to quietly roll down their faces as Salem sang on.

"And the tale is told, of those who by the hundreds,  
holding hands together, chose their deaths in the sea.

While chanting the praises of the Mother Goddess,  
a refusal of betrayal, women were dying to be free."

Dawn shook her head in amazement. She, too, was crying now. How could any one be so cruel, so heartless as to condemn to death good women who had only ever helped them simply because they held different beliefs and worshipped different Gods?

Paige reached out and touched Dawn's hand. Dawn opened her hand, and the redhead held it as she and Piper sang again.

"Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna...  
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna... "

Cole bowed his head as the words of the song rushed over him. He vowed yet again to keep the sisters safe. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered the day as though it were yesterday... So many had died... These two were his to protect for always...

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at ficcersuniteDOT proboardsDOTcom today!


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

"And the tale is told, of those who by the hundreds,  
holding hands together, chose their deaths in the sea."

Dawn's mouth was wide open now as Salem continued to sing, but she dare not make a single sound. The women who had been so cruelly persecuted by Christians simply because they held different beliefs had not even tried to fight? They had gone peacefully to their deaths?

Cole continued holding Piper and seeing the day in his mind of which Salem sang so beautifully. It had been a beautiful day much like this one until the tragedy had hit, changing the lives and souls of those who survived it forever more.

Tears continued to pour down the women's faces as Salem sang. His pointed, furry ears began to swivel back and forward. Something was moving. He could hear it coming through the green grass. Then he realized whatever was approaching was not an "it" at all. The approachers were very much alive. Looking at Cole, he unsheathed his claws but continued to sing.

"While chanting the praises of the Mother Goddess,  
a refusal of betrayal, women were dying to be free."

When Salem unsheathed his claws and looked at him so pointedly, Cole shook his head. Over Piper's head, he mouthed the word, "Friend".

* * *

The Indian woman came to sit closer to the blue beast. "Who and what are those people? I have not seen them before."

"Nor have I. We must watch and listen and see what reveals itself," he told her. "It is not so much that I mind your presence, dear child, as it is that it is not safe for you to be here. Tell me what is happening with your people. Perhaps then I may be able to tell you what to do. I begin to fear that it will be a long time yet this night before I find my son."

Guards moved about before them, but none appeared to have spotted them yet. He wondered what they were protecting. Were they keeping something safe, or perhaps keeping something in? He could hear the rattle of chains from somewhere within the party, but he knew that his son was not there. He could smell the stench of unwashed bodies, unclean fur, and decaying flesh.

A woman dressed in green and black walked by, and he ducked further into the bushes, pulling Prue backwards with him. He watched the woman intently. She had long, black hair and pale, white skin. he was certain he'd never seen her before. She was talking to some one about seeing to the doctor's new invention, but no details of the mentioned invention or the doctor's name were given.

If Bobby were here, he thought, he'd waltz right in, slipping pass their guards as he pretended to be one of them, and swiftly find out the answers they needed by chatting somebody up. But Bobby was not here and would never stand beside him again, and he certainly could not go out there himself. One look at a blue, hairy beast would send the innocents, if they were any, screaming and put the rest automatically on the defense. He glanced at Prue, but sending her in was completely out of the question. Not only would he not endanger the sweet child's life any further, but with the sole exception of her tanned, white skin, she looked, from head to toe, just like an Indian.

* * *

Jack slid off Tonto's back and waited for Hansel to dismount. Looking around he was surprised to find that they had left the desert and were now surrounded by a lovely green wood. He could hear birds singing all around them. He tried imitating one of the especially pretty sounding bird songs. Hansel gave his heart wings and he wanted to sing for him.

His song sounded so lovely and so like the bird's call that the bird suddenly appeared in their midst. When it saw that they were humans it flew away very quickly. Jack wished that he had an instrument that he could play for Hansel but all he had was his mouth, he continued to sing gazing upon Hansel, loving him more every minute. How wonderful was his love!

Jack finished his song and held out his arms stepping forward to embrace his beloved...

Hansel gazed down at Jack in complete awe and wonder, the intent gaze from his blue eyes seeming almost reverent. This beautiful man never ceased to amaze and delight him, or to steal his breath and heart away with the fantastical things he did! He was, without a doubt, the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, the purest light in his whole world, and the love of his life. Hansel's heart was so full of emotions that he now knew it must be love. It had to be love for no other word could possibly come close to describing how he felt about him.

He took his hand and eagerly let him pull him close. His arms wrapped around him, holding him gently as he walked so close to him that his forehead pressed softly against his and their noses touched. For the first time in his life, Hansel failed to consider what the person with him might think of his appearance or he himself. His broken nose did not even cross his mind, and that was his worst feature, the one that kept gnawing at him inside, the one that Derek never ceased to make look worse by breaking it yet again or to admonish him for.

Derek had convinced him he was ugly, but that didn't matter any longer. Nothing Derek had ever said or done mattered to him in this moment, though the nightmares would certainly return later. For now, all he saw was Jack; all he thought of was how amazing he was, how much he loved him, and how lucky he was to have his brilliant star shining in his life; and all he felt was love. "I love you," he whispered softly, no longer unsure, and he kissed him as his song of love, which had been identical to the bird's mating call, echoed in his heart.

Jack gazed into the beautiful, blue eyes of the man he loved and then heard Hansel's song in his heart as Hansel declared his love. It spun him around and made his heart sing even more. He took in the features of his love's visage and tried to memorize them so that, should the worse happen, he'd remember them into the afterlife. He couldn't take him with him in body, but he could carry his love with him.

He still felt like a thief, stealing Hansel away from his people, but he was glad that Hansel had reacted by coming with him and not hating him. He knew that Hansel thought himself to be ugly. Probably Derek, Jack mused. But why, he wondered, did he actually believe it? Had he never seen his reflection? Jack vowed to show Hansel how he truly looked the first time they were near clear, still water. He was determined that Hansel should see the beauty that Jack saw.

Jack held Hansel strongly but gently, sliding his hands up Hansel's back and caressing him and thrilling in the feel of his strong muscles which had surprised him as he knew that he had been living a softer life style. It was as if he had still kept himself in great shape. Jack pressed his lips gently to Hansel's forehead, then to his nose, and finally to his lips, wondering which feature he loved more. As he delved deeper into his love's nectar, he also lowered his hands down to his buttocks and squeezed them gently. He sipped from his love's lips as though he was a hummingbird and Hansel a flower so full of sweet juices that he couldn't wait to drink ...

* * *

Well, you handled that badly, Lex told himself, but when had he ever handled stuff the right way? According to his Father, he wasn't capable of handling anything the right way. Maybe it was true, but Lex hated to admit it. If he had handled things the right way, he would not now be lost in a godforsaken farmhouse with a scared-to-death boy hiding from him lest he take him to bed but would have been in at least a comfortable inn with liqueur at hand and servants to do his bidding. But instead here he was, knowing full well he'd have to go look for the boy and try to make an apology so he didn't get thrown out for the night. Tomorrow he'd have to go looking for his stuff and try to return to town and get another start.

In the meantime, all he could think of was those blue eyes gazing into his and the fear he had seen therein. He put his feet on the floor and walked out pass the flapping door in the direction that he thought he had taken. What he would say he had not the foggiest clue, but how could he say that he was sorry when he truthfully wasn't? He wouldn't be able to.

All he wanted was to take those blue eyes and make them open in sheer delight as he pleasured him over and over again well into what remained of the night and into the next day... Clark was a virgin. Lex was willing to bet he had never even kissed a girl, and Lex was an expert in making sex... He wanted to be Clark's first. Should he kidnap him? Lex wondered. Seeing another building, Lex hurried that way.

* * *

Some miles away from where the bounty hunter went down, howling, beneath the orange monsters of a certain forest, a head shot up, and green eyes narrowed in silent questioning. The man was flanked by two young women riding beside him. The taller of the two looked up and met his eyes with questions in her own. "Father?"

"Take care o' Jubilee," he commanded, his voice transforming from the gentle, joking tone he'd been using as they'd chattered on their way back from their night's operation to a voice that was barely audible and yet forewarned of levels of danger. "Don't wait for me. Get back to our hideout. You're in charge, Pryde."

Father and daughter gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, and silent communication shot back and forth between them. She, too, had heard the howls, knew that it was him, and understood that her father would never be able to simply turn away.

"What's goin' on?" the youngest of their trio asked, but the man called Logan didn't answer her. Instead he turned his horse in the direction of the howls and took off full speed ahead.

Jubilee turned her own horse to follow her father. "No," Kitty told her, "don't. We have our orders."

"But - "

"No but's, Lee. Don't make me go feral on your ass. We do what he said. He'll be back in the morning." Her brown eyes glared a warning at her little sister.

"But - "

Kitty cocked a brow. "What did I say?" she growled out, her voice sounding much like their father's had only a moment before.

Jubilee sighed. "I know. I know. Shut up, Lee."

"That's right," Kitty told her. "Shut up and come on." She saw the worry in her eyes and softened her voice just a tad as she told her, "He'll be all right, Jubie. He'll be home in the morning, probably before you even get up." She flashed her a cocky grin. "Especially since you don't usually crawl out 'til noon." She started to ride on toward their destination, her saddlebags full of money flapping beside her.

"Hey!" Jubilee called as she quickened her horse's pace in pursuit of her sister. "Better noon than the crack of dawn!"

"The early bird catches the worm," Kitty reminded her. She smiled at her over her shoulder. She knew that distraction was key to keeping Jubilee from doing things it was best she didn't do. "I'd race ya, but there's no way you can catch the Shadowcat!"

"Bull! Come on, Firecracker!" she called to her mare, pressing her into a faster gallop. Soon she was pulling up beside Kitty, but then Kitty called a command to her horse and the two shot further ahead. As they ran, they kicked up such a cloud of dust that Jubilee began to cough, but she kept right after their heels.

* * *

Clark looked outside as he bolted the last window and gave a sharp exclamation. His tongue almost betrayed him with a curse word, but he silenced himself just in time. What was wrong with him? he thought worriedly. His whole body had been acting and feeling strange since he'd first touched the innocent man he'd rescued from sure death earlier that night! He'd never acted so strangely nor yearned for another's touch so desperately!

He shook his head. Cold water. He needed cold water, but he didn't have time to go dipping in the well. Not only did he have to go rescue the man whose handsome body and beguiling smile he could not shake from his thoughts, but he had to stay here and protect his mother and the man! He raced out of the house, calling behind him, "Hey! You don't need to be out here! It's not safe!" Never once did he stop to consider that it might not be safe for him.

* * *

As Salem sheathed his claws, his long, black tail swishing through the air, Piper and Paige once more sang the chorus. This time, Dawn joined them. The child's voice wavered, but she held her head high. Helping to sing this powerful song was the least she could do to honor the women who had lived peacefully and chosen to die the same way lest they hurt those they had always helped but were determined to see their deaths.

"Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna...  
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna..."

Salem resumed in his strong, deep, and bewitching voice, his green eyes speaking clearly of the emotions his heart was filled with by the memories of that fateful day in history, a history he had strived, but failed, to change.

"Now the earth is a witch, and we still burn her.  
Stripping her down with mining, and the poison of our wars.

Still to us, the earth is a healer, a teacher, and a mother.  
A weaver of a web of light, that keeps us all alive.

She gives us the vision to see through the chaos.  
She gives us the courage, it is our will to survive."

And the girls resumed the chorus one last time.

"Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna...  
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna...  
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna...  
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali... Inanna... "

When the song had ended, for a second, there was nothing but silence as if the very earth itself stood still in remembrance and respect. Cole kissed Piper on the back of her neck and then spoke clearly so that all of them could hear, "Salem and I go back a long, long way. Once he would have been the king of the world, and I followed him, as did many others. We failed, and all of us were cursed, some more than others..." He looked at Salem. "He most of all. How great was his love for his people that he suffered all these years from the hands of his enemies in silence... Now at last he is free but may remain forever in cat form... "

Salem hung his head, unable to face the compassionate gazes bestowed upon him. He had deserved every punishment the Spellmans had ever given him for he had failed for his people and caused so many such great pain and even death. Tears filled his green eyes that none could see, but he batted them down. He should have been King, but he had failed. That did not mean he had to show where he was weak, especially not with outsiders coming.

Paige stroked him tenderly, and her gentle touch helped to ease his silent tears. Dawn reached over and petted him, too, her mind still whirling from everything she'd learned this night. Yet it was day here. How was it day? Just where were they?

Cole could hear them coming slowly, quietly, as he held Piper closer. "Do not fear; friends are coming..."

* * *

"For a long time now, my people have been getting very sick. Our healers have healed them, but it never lasts for more then a day. The healers have to rest in between times. They are getting sick from constantly being drained. I am afraid that they will not wake up one day; then all will die. My Mother, Ororo, sent me for the doctor, knowing that since it is caused by the white man, he should have the cure." She was not afraid of the big, blue beast. "Who are you, and why do you know me? Talk to me of your truths."

"Some truths, dear girl, are better left unspoken lest they endanger those who hold them. So your tribe has healers now? How powerful are they? You say that your people become sick again, but when they are healed, are they made completely well and capable of deploying their own faculties?" Ororo would be a great help in finding Brendan. He contemplated the situation as he watched the guards beginning to settle down for the night. They clearly thought they were safe from harm, yet he smelled the scents of those who had been harmed greatly. Blood hung heavy on the air here.

"Most are able to hold up for one day. Mother held up two days. But they start out being very sick, stomach pains, throwing up food, running high fevers, can't keep water down, so they get weaker and weaker, then fall to long times of sleep. Some do not wake again."

"We have two great healers, but they do not come from Earth. They don't know what is causing it. We have lost many. Mother says that if her old friend, Doctor McCoy, was still alive, he could save them all. It almost killed her when he died."

Just who was this blue man, Prue wondered, who claimed to be the Father of the doctor? Would her Mother know him? "What do you think is going on?" she asked him.

He gazed into her troubled eyes, his own yellow orbs full of sorrow. "Your mother almost died when . . . " He almost spoke the wrong word. " . . . Doctor McCoy passed? Tell me, sweet child, why did it trouble her so? How close did she come?"

"Depression seemed to pull her to her death. She almost took her life but at the last minute she stopped herself because of me. I thought maybe it was because the doctor was my Father. Mother never spoke of him until now. She knows he can save us but he's gone perhaps he taught the young doctor his skills."

He lowered his head so that she would not see the tears in his eyes. "Perhaps he is not as gone as your mother believed. Perhaps it was the only way to protect her, and perhaps he messed up everything for everybody but knows no other way." The words were out before he could stop himself, and he was almost glad to hear a scream split the night air. Almost because it saved him before he could say too much.

* * *

Tenseness drained out of Will. He sighed in relief as he put the shotglass back on the counter and rolled his head about his shoulders. "That . . . feels . . . so good!"

"Have another one."

Will lifted the glass. "It's empty." Then, before his very eyes, liquid appeared in the glass. He looked down into it and saw that it came to the very top. A grin burst over his handsome face. "That's so neat!"

Hatter inclined his head in a nod, a thoughtful smile on his lips. "Isn't it, though? Go ahead, William. Drink up."

"How do you know my name?" the lad asked, meeting his eyes. He'd already forgotten he'd told him.

"I know the names of every one who enters my forest," Hatter mused, "and I know what each and every one of them needs." He patted his shoulder as he walked behind him. "Go ahead. Drink as much as your heart desires." Will downed a second dose of Innocence, and once more the shotglass refilled itself. He stared into the swirling liquid as Hatter looked up toward the southern border of his makeshift office.

* * *

Hansel moaned against Jack's kisses. The kiss on his nose had especially sent waves of pleasure and passion coursing through his soul. He trembled in Jack's arms not from fear but from the intensity of his delight as he kissed him back. His hands roamed his body freely, doing their best to heatedly caress every spot of his fineness that they could reach. His heart thundered so loudly in his chest from the passion that filled it that he was sure Jack must hear it, too. His tongue touched his as their lips parted, brushed it teasingly, and then began to dance with it.

For the first time, he regretted having tossed his saddle and all that it had held from Tonto's back. He wished he had a blanket now for he'd lay it down beneath this man who he was so lucky to have as his and make love to him right here and now. The dangers lay forgotten from Hansel's mind, along with everything else but how Jack made him feel, how he wanted to make him feel in return, and how lucky he was to have him. The Great Spirit had truly blessed him at long last, and Hansel would not let a second slip by without showing Jack how thankful he was to have him in his life. He was so lost in his passion and love that he did not realize that Jack had not responded in kind when he'd finally told him he loved him.

Guilt rode high on Jack's mind. He wasn't good at keeping his soul guarded from his beloved. He wanted no secrets between them but knew there were a lot that only time could resolve. At least time would solve most of them, but the one he feared the most was overshadowing him to the point he feared would blow them apart. He warred within himself: should he tell Hansel what the Shaman had told him or try to forget it and go with the flow?

Hansel's kisses made him hotter than a July fire. He wanted to take him here and now... Their lovemaking had been interrupted earlier, and it had left Jack hotter than he'd ever been... Just the thought of Hansel dancing only for him in all those bird feathers made him grow even harder. He didn't know how much more he could stand it before exploding... If Hansel touched him there, he was truly gone...

Jack's natural instincts told him to hide before continuing... He warbled a message deep in his throat and was rewarded by a bird answering! Following the directions a chickadee gave him, he pulled Hansel along by one arm until they came to a small clearing where flowing water cascaded from a waterfall. The area emanated peace, and he knew this was the place.

Pulling Hansel back into his arms, he began kissing his bountiful lips and stroking his back again. Then, slowly, his hands began to massage his rear, pressing his hardened steel into him so that he knew how much he wanted him. He gave silent thanks to his Goddess for bestowing such a bountiful harvest upon him and lost himself completely in Hansel's loving...

As Jack had led him, with Tonto clopping along behind them, Hansel's mind had cleared. Now he realized that Jack had not answered him and began to silently worry, though he fought to hide it. Had his love decided he truly did not love him, or was it just that he was not yet ready to admit it or still wasn't sure what exactly love was? Hansel himself had not been sure, but he knew there could be no other name for how greatly he cared about Jack, how desperately he wanted him and needed him to fulfill him and make him whole, and how he just felt a wonderful glow warming him from the curls of his blonde head all the way through to the tips of his toes whenever he thought of him.

Give him time, he told himself as Jack kissed and caressed him, slowly rekindling the fire that had lessened into embers. He just needed time. That was all. It had to be all. He wasn't like Derek. He could never be like Derek. He loved him. He did. He just had to have time to learn what love was for himself, as Hansel had.

He kissed him back slowly as the passion gradually rebuilt between them. His hands roamed his body, stroking him tenderly at first and then beginning to tug at his shirt. He moaned as he felt him move against him. Slowly sinking to the ground, he pulled him down with him, his lips never once leaving his.

* * *

A whisper and rustling of the flowers revealed a very small being who walked forward until he was in front of Cole. " Welcome, friends..." but then, peering anxiously around, he asked, "Where's Carl?"

Cole replied with a sad shake of his head, "He has been taken. Take us to Dresden; we seek his help."

Several more of the Gnomes showed themselves, gathering around the women and gazing intently upon them. {They are mine!} Cole told them where no one else could hear him. They backed away, chattering amongst themselves but giving them room. Talus looked at Cole, "Come. We go at once..."

Cole nodded and, taking Piper's hand, followed behind Talus. Behind his hand, he whispered, "He is Carl's brother."

It did not take them long to reach the small village of neat little houses scattered out with a much larger house in the middle. It was to this big house that Talus took them. Knocking upon its door, he called out, "Open. Cole has returned!"

A rumbling began deep within the house that shook the house even as the front door was blown open and hung crookedly upon its hinges. A cloud of smoke and flames belched forth from the house that barely missed hitting the small group that was standing nearby. Seconds later, it was followed by a tall, dark-haired man frantically beating the flames out of himself and a white-haired man glowering remorsefully emerging from the house. Soot covered the first man's face, and both men's hair stood on end! Some of the Gnomes dashed off for water and threw it frantically upon them. When the flames had been extinguished, they both turned and greeted Cole as though he were a long lost brother! Cole greeted them in turn before wryly commenting, "I see you used too much cinnamon again!"

* * *

"I'm sorry to have messed with your mind, Clark, but I only spoke the truth as to how I feel about you. I will leave in the morning, but I will stay out here the rest of the night. I can't trust myself where you are concerned. You make me feel things I've never felt before. Forgive me for disturbing your peace. Thank you for rescuing me. Maybe you better return to the house." He wanted nothing more than to take Clark on the spot despite the muskiness of their surroundings.

Clark kicked himself and shut his eyes briefly against the emotions that rode high inside of him. He didn't understand what was happening, but he heard the hurt in Lex's voice and it pained him. Reopening his eyes, he dared to look into his blue orbs as he repeated, "You can't stay out here, Lex. I'm not trying to run you off. It's not safe." Would he laugh if he told him there was a monster on the loose?

"You don't understand, Clark. If I go back in the house, you're the one that is not safe! I am Lex Luther, and I believe in getting what I want by hook or by crook and what I want is you! I want to hold you and kiss you and take you to my bed and keep you there forever! Unless you can tell me the same, take your butt back in the house and bar your door. Or I swear the Luther blood will boil to the surface and I will not be able to control it. I will take you right here on the barn floor. You will hate me forever. Run away, Clark, and save yourself."

His mind was amazed by all that he heard, but he stood his ground and was not afraid. "I can protect myself, Lex, but you can't from what's out here . . . " His words were interrupted by a piercing howl. "I'm not going to pretend to understand all that's happening, or what I'm feeling for you, but I'm not going to let you get yourself killed!"

"I didn't save you today just so that you could become dinner tonight! My Father is out here somewhere, hunting a creature, and it is my duty to protect you and my Mother." His blue eyes blazed as he said determinedly, "You're coming back inside one way or another. It's the only thing that will keep you alive tonight."

What was wrong with this man? he wondered. He must have really hit his head hard! But then, what was wrong with him to desperately want to taste the sweetness of his lips and feel his hands upon his body? It was wrong, completely wrong, and he should turn away, walk off, and leave him here! But he couldn't. It wasn't safe, and duty had to come first.

"Let the creature come," Lex declared. "He can be no more evil than I am. I stand here in front of you and tell you there will be no peace for either of us if I return to the house with you. Go protect your Mother. Forgive me and leave me here. Let the creature devour me for it is the only way you will ever be safe. Go run away before its too late... " Lex clenched his arms to his sides for he knew if he reached out and touched Clark, he would overcome Clark and Clark would hate him for it. He turned his back, not wanting to see Clark walk away from him.

* * *

Jack had other thoughts than making love to Hansel on the hard ground... He wanted to take him in the water under the waterfall with its wondrous, gentle fingers splashing down upon them. How to get him where he wanted him? He nibbled at the corner of Hansel's mouth, kissed down his chest, and then began to undo his breechcloth, his fingers caressing his skin before asking, "Have you ever made love in the water? Come swim with me?" Jack pleaded.

Jack loved the water, but he hardly ever had a chance to do more than bathe in it. Now he had a chance to share his love of water with the man he loved... Grey Fox, be dammed if you're going to steal him from me!, he vowed. They would make love, rest, and then make love again. Then they would talk and he would tell him of some of the Shaman's words but not all of them.

No way would he plant a seed of doubt in his mind for if there was one thing, Jack decided, he was was that he was greedy and wanted every bit of Hansel for himself. There was no way that he wanted to share him with a supposed soul mate for either of them for, as Jack considered it to be, they were each other's only need and desire. They were soul mates! He didn't want it to be any other way!

Grey Fox and his magic bag of tricks be dammed! Weren't soul mates supposed to be the beginning and ending of each other and everything in between? Yes, they were soul mates! Jack decreed for only Hansel had been all of that for him! He gazed into his beloved's blue eyes as he waited for his answer...

As Jack undid Hansel's breechcloth, his sword sprang to life, tossing the rest of the small cloth to the side. Hansel grinned down at Jack, his fears momentarily forgotten in the immense waves of pleasure that his lover sent crashing through him. "Race ya!" he exclaimed with a wink and ran for the water.

He had never made love in the water, but the thought had always appealed to him. Derek had been a stickler - always putting Hansel on his back in unimaginative positions and places and taking the top -, and Hansel couldn't wait to see all the different kinds of positions and areas Jack and he could come up with to make wild, magical love.

He yodeled as he dove into the water, purposefully making a gigantic splash. He bobbed up a moment later, grinning mischievously from ear to ear and his blue eyes sparkling merrily, and looked for Jack as he spat out the water he'd swallowed like a fish.

* * *

Paige carried Salem, her green eyes flitting constantly about her as they walked. She sensed Dawn's uneasiness and reached out to take the young girl's hand. Dawn clung to her grasp gratefully. Everything was so strange, and her mind just kept buzzing!

Piper looked with concern upon the girls, then turned to ask Cole for introductions. Before she could, however, Salem, who had been watching the newcomers with a grin, commented with a swish of his tail, "Bob, it's good to see you." Walking around free, he concluded silently. Just how had Bob broken his curse? he wondered as his green eyes narrowed in on the man called Dresden. "You must be Malcolm's boy?"

Bob looked at the black cat who had addressed him and grinned, "At last, my friend, I am grateful to have you in my presence again! I feared I would never see you again."

Dresden looked at the black cat. The voice was familiar and sounded like music on his ears. Who was this newcomer, he wondered, and why is Bob so twitterpated over him? "How did you know my Father?" He was anxious to know who this being was and why was he here.

"Malcolm was a good man," Salem told Dresden, meeting his gaze with a steady, unblinking look of his own. "He served me well and is one of many whose fates I regret. Tell me, where is he now? Is he here? I'd like to see . . . him . . . " It was then that Salem saw the sorrow in Bob's eyes and the gentle, reassuring smile that hid the sorrow from his face as he tried to catch Dresden's eyes. Salem's furry face fell, his ears flattening. His head hung, and his tail tucked. "I'm sorry," he spoke sincerely. "What happened?"

The wind picked up. Bob muttered, "Justin Morningway! The sorry bastard wanted Dresden and would have his powers, but Malcolm would not stand for it. He tried to stop him and failed. Justin exploded him from the inside out, absorbing some of his powers for himself. Some of the remaining powers entered Dresden, while the others disappeared. I was too late to save Malcolm."

He hung his head in remorse and then lifted it in defiance, declaring hotly, "He will get his just due one day! If not for Cole, we might still be under his control. He saved us. I was enslaved by Justin, who almost used me up completely, but - thanks be to Cole - he helped us to escape and brought us here to this beautiful place! Here is peace and safety for those who are evil can not come here!"

"I recovered, and Dresden has come into his true powers here." He smiled at Dresden with a glowing smile filled with love. Dresden returned the smile. Any one looking at the two would see how much they loved each other.

Cole knew their secret; one look at his former boss let him know that he, too, understood.

Salem's tail swished through the air. He was glad that Dresden's son and Bob had found each other and knew that their love had undoubtedly played as large a part in saving their lives and souls as Cole had. "Good work, old chap," he said approvingly, smiling up at Cole before turning his gaze back to Bob and little Harry who clearly was no longer so little. "Morningway will get his," Salem confirmed in a voice whose mere sound would have put fear into his enemies, "but we have another enemy we must deal with first."

* * *

Hank's head jerked up, the tears in his eyes still glittering in the moonlight. "Stay here," he told Ororo's daughter and bounded in the direction of the scream that was now repeating. Some one was in danger, and there was fresh blood on the air!

Prue pulled out her knife and crept quietly behind the blue beast just in case he had need of her. What had he been about to say - that he knew where Doctor McCoy was and that he wasn't dead? Another scream rent the air, and she saw the blue beast dash into the tent. She stayed outside and watched, hoping he would be okay and that they could soon leave.

The Beast's yellow eyes widened and his pounding heart leaped into his furry, pointed ears as he realized that the screaming voice belonged to a child! Dropping to all fours, he ran as fast as he could and released a ferocious roar as he leaped into the tent. His own roar drowned out another, and he arrived just in time to see a lithe redhead glaring down a party of five men.

* * *

"NO!" The word was more of a roar of outrage than a shout of denial as the bounty hunter surged upward, throwing red-orange creatures off of him left and right. His claws slashed out in the bright light of the descending full moon, cutting through every Fiery he could reach. Heads bounced. Legs and arms were diced into smaller parts. He cut the Fieries into halves, thirds, and even fourths, but it wasn't until he dove his claws straight through one of their bobbing heads and something gooey splattered out that he finally got one to stop coming back.

He whirled as more ran, flew, hopped, and flopped toward him. His claws were a blinding silver in the moonlight as he struck, shattering heads and shredding every other body part he could get his claws upon. His angry roars drowned out the Fieries' dying calls, but two women heard.

"FALL BACK!" Faith shouted, but the Fieries kept coming.

"WE AIN'T FALLING BACK!"

"THIS DUDE KNOWS HOW TO PARTY, BUT WE PARTY HARDER!"

"IT ISN'T A PARTY!" she screamed at them.

"SURE IT IS! LIFE'S A PARTY! THAT'S HOW WE - " But the Fiery's words were cut off abruptly as the bounty hunter's claws cut sideways through his face. An ear fell beside Faith's foot, and an eye landed next to her elbow. It stared, unseeing, up at her.

"YOU'RE NEXT, WHELP!" the man roared at her as he continued to slaughter her friends.

For the first time, Faith felt a shiver of fear crawl up her spine. This man was unlike any foe she'd ever faced before. She'd never thought the Fieries could be killed, but yet, as more of their splintered and gouged body parts rained down around her, she saw more and more friends who would never get up again for another party.

"NO!"

"Nae is right," spoke a voice. The woman dressed entirely in black from head to foot did not shout, but yet her words cut through the chaos like a knife through butter. Emerald eyes blazed from a dark and furious face. "Fieries, fall back," she commanded, "now!" The last word was hissed from pearly white teeth, but no fangs displayed. Yet both the bounty hunter and his prey sensed power radiating off of this woman . . .

* * *

Clark gazed at Lex in complete bewilderment and disbelief. Finally, he reached out, grasped his wrist, and pulled. "I'm not leaving you here!" If he had to, he would use every bit of his strength on this crazed but handsome man, but there was no way that he would ever leave him in the midst of danger! "You're coming back inside one way or another, Lex."

He gazed at him in wonder. "What makes you think you're so evil?" There was nothing evil about him that Clark could see; what he saw before him was only a confused, self-hating, and utterly, breath-takingly sexy man who made him want to grasp him, pull him to him, and kiss sense back into him. But that, he knew, was impossible. Men kissing each other was the most senseless, and one of the wickedest, things there was on the face of the earth! Or, at least, that's what he'd been taught his whole life . . .

Lex looked at his arm where Clark was clutching him so tightly. "I am evil; my Father told me so. Who would know better? I told you not to come too close, Clark, but you didn't listen." Lex tugged at Clark's hand, and suddenly a bewildered Clark found himself in Lex's arms, pulled so tightly against him that Clark could still feel his attention pressing against him and two swollen with passion lips touched down upon his, capturing him for all time. Two arms encircled him, holding him tightly, while his mouth was plundered by Lex. The suddenness of the attack and the ensuing ecstasy that began to build between the two threatened to steal Clark's breath away.

Passion and pleasure flooded Clark's heart and soul, but then he realized what he was doing. "No!" he cried and instinctively shoved against him. "NO!" His scream repeated, his voice now full of horror, as he watched Lex fly through the air and out the open barn door. He raced after him, praying he'd be in time to catch him and fearing his reaction . . .

Would he tell the world of the monster he'd discovered? Although Lex was the one who'd been warning him that he would hate him if he attacked him, Clark knew that Lex was, in truth, the one who would hate, and fear, him. Tears sprang to his panicked blue eyes. Why, oh why, did his powers have to kick in now?

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**

"DAMN!" Lex yelled as he felt himself flying through the air, not concerned at all where he landed. Wow, what a punch Clark had! He closed his eyes, hoping he'd fall forever into eternity, only to find that he was caught against a rock-hard chest. He knew before he opened his eyes just who held him close for one second before he felt himself lowered to the ground and released.

"What else are you hiding from me, Clark? I'm not afraid of you. Your incredible strength is an even bigger turn on. Tell me that for just one minute, you didn't want me as much as I want you? Tell me that you don't want me to kiss you again or hold you tightly? If you can tell me that truthfully, I'll leave you alone and return to the room until morning."

He saw such pain shining in Lex's breath-taking blue eyes that Clark dared to reach up a hand and touch him again. He caressed his cheek briefly, then forced himself to pull his hand away. "I will not lie to you, Lex. I will not tell you I'm not feeling what I am. But this is wrong."

Where was the hatred that he'd expected all his life to bombard him when some one finally discovered how different he really was? Where was the fear and anger that Lex should have felt from being thrown so hard that he would have broken every bone in his body if he had landed on the ground? How could Lex claim that that which made him a monster made him even more attracted to him? Why was he not running away, screaming, in fear? Why was his voice so gentle, so pleading and begging that Clark ached to chase away every pain from his heart and fill it instead with love? Why was he feeling this way when he knew it was completely wrong and evil?

He was not a monster, and yet . . . Yet he ached to feel Lex's arms around him again and taste the sweetness of his lips once more. Why? What was wrong with him to want such so bad he burned for it like he'd never burned for anything else before in his entire life? What was wrong with the breathtakingly handsome man before him to make him want to give him everything he ached for and should never have?

"Why is it wrong, Clark?" He had trembled at Clark's tentative touch and had then wanted to cry out at his too swift departure. "If we both feel that we could love each other and want to be together, why is it wrong? Who makes the rules?"

"God." He almost spat the name. "I've heard how wrong it is all my life, Lex! Dad says men like us should be put down. Even Mom says it's the Devil's doing to make us feel this way." His eyes dropped. "I'm sorry, but . . . " He shook his head miserably. "I can't . . . "

"What has God got to do with it? Your Father and others like him use God to fit their plans. I've read that Book twice from cover to cover and never yet seen that in there. The Ten Commandments do not say one word about men loving men! It can't be a sin, Clark, if no one gets hurt and only loving is done!"

He wanted to reach out and touch him but didn't. He moved over and sat down on a bale of hay, giving Clark a chance to come to grips with the reality of how he truthfully felt about himself. "I want you in a way I've never wanted any one else, but I won't force you. It's time for you to make your own decisions."

* * *

This was going to be fun, Jack thought. Hansel was as eager for the water as he himself was. Hansel beat Jack to the water and dived under, giving Jack time to get under the water and move closer to where Hansel was standing. He could see fine underwater, and Hansel was well defined standing there, his steed sticking forward, hard and firm, despite the slight pressure of the water current caressing him. Jack swam slowly toward it and opened his mouth on the edge of it, taking him in with nibbling bites and bringing cries of pleasure from Hansel with each touch.

He would have to surface soon so that he could breath, but in the mean time, molten lava filled his body that cried out for Hansel's golden touch, the thrills running throughout igniting his passion even more. Face above the water, so that he could now breathe, Jack held on to his prize, increasing his nibbling and sucking, bringing Hansel to his back slowly, so that he could float, Jack never released his stallion ...

Hansel's mind was gone. He knew only the pleasure and ecstasy that Jack created in him with his every touch. One arm floated limply upon the water's surface while his other hand reached to Jack. He caressed his stomach, his chest, each nipple, and his handsome face before starting the path back downward. His fingers yearned for his steed but could not reach it. Drifting partially out of his bedazzled state, Hansel brought one leg down, reached out with his foot, and found Jack's mighty, rearing steed with his reaching, wriggling toes. He began to do his best to caress him there with nothing but his foot as his eyes drifted back closed in ecstasy once more. He was not even aware of the moans that left his lips, but Jack brought another one out to play each and every touch.

Hansel's moans of pleasure were music to Jack's ears, and his mouth continued to nibble upon the mighty steed even as another idea came to Jack. Hansel's foot massaging Jack's steed was throwing them off slightly, and Jack was afraid that Hansel would stop floating and start to sink. Jack continued to nibble upon the fine rod he held gently but also began to push them toward the waterfall. Once there, he would use some of the soft, white sand he could see glistening in the pale light to wash Hansel all over as erotically as he could.

They would not get far this day in the way of travel, but in the ways of love, Jack was determined that Hansel would be so loved that he would never regret a single moment he spent with Jack. He would never doubt that he was loved! Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw the place he sought - a small indention, almost making a natural basin to bathe in.

Guiding Hansel's unsuspecting body to it, he suddenly felt the explosion coming as Hansel's body stiffened and his rod began to jerk, despite Jack holding it. Jack's mouth encircled the shaft even as a geyser of love juices sprang forth, and he gratefully drank every swallow even as his swollen member throbbed and he longed to feel Hansel's mouth upon him.

No sooner had Hansel's body calmed than he broke free of Jack's grasp and dove further into the water with a powerful kick of his hind legs. There, beneath the water, he took Jack's full length into his mouth, his hands going to his testicles. His fingers wrapped around his furry, little men, filling his hands with him. He squeezed gently at first and then massaged him with an increasing speed.

Jack could not think straight, not with Hansel stealing the last of his coherent thoughts with the mind-blowing sex he was now bestowing upon him! When Jack exploded, it would have thrown him off his feet such was the intensity and power of it had he not been already lying down. He could only reach the top of Hansel's head but his fingers twined in the luxuriousness of his curls. He howled his delight and pleasure as the thrills ripped through his body time after time...

Hansel held to him as he came, shaking his head slightly with the coy look of a mischievous pup. His hands briskly worked his testes as his teeth gently grazed his sword. The water washed all around them, and between the caressing feel of the currents, gazing at Jack's delicious body, and feeling him fill his mouth and hands again and again, Hansel found himself already becoming hard once more. He could spend a lifetime with this man, or even ten million lifetimes, he knew, and never, ever grow tired of him or the love they had found! He would have yodeled his pleasure had his mouth not been so full, but instead he smiled at Jack from around his steed and gazed at him with eyes full of love that he knew conveyed the message his heart ached to send winging his love's way.

Jack found himself lost to the love making Hansel was gifting him with. After the fifth time, he caught Hansel up to him and cradled him in his arms. He feared that if he kept up the rapid sex, he would burn them both up. They had all the time they needed and Jack was basking in their afterglow, yet he knew he had to tell him what was on his mind.

Holding Hansel's head on his right shoulder, Jack slowly trailed the fingers of his left hand down his love's face. He couldn't remember a time that he had ever felt him so relaxed; he was eternally glad to have been the one who put the smile on his lips. He hoped that telling him what had him worried wouldn't upset him, but maybe together they could work it out.

"Hansel, I love you, and I love the way you make me feel. I love being with you. I am thankful to the Goddess we have found each other. I don't want to see my life if you're not in it. But we have problems that you don't know about, and I don't want them to come between us ..."

* * *

"Paige . . . " Dawn whispered, her voice a mere croak.

"Here, Dawn, sit down here," Paige told her, helping her young friend to sit down upon the grass before she fainted again. She shook her head sadly and slowly. Things were moving too fast for her too, and at least she had known about the Supernatural and her bloodline before tonight. Poor Dawnie had had no idea any of the Supernatural existed, and it was a wonder she was keeping things together as well as she was.

"Powers . . . Witches . . . Demons . . . Enchanted cats . . . Wizards . . . " Dawn murmured as she shook her aching head. She glanced up at one of the little men watching her in great concern and gave it another shake as she weakly muttered, "Gnomes . . . It's all too much . . . "

Piper looked from Dawn to Paige to Cole and finally to the two men who were busily staring at each other. "Is there anywhere she could possibly lay down and rest for a moment?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Dawn murmured.

"No," Paige told her, caressing her forehead with the gentle touch of a concerned mother, "you're not." She remembered all the horrible things that the girl's mother and sister had done to her, and a thought struck her. "Salem," she whispered so low that only his superior feline hearing could hear her, "I want to talk to you later."

Salem met her eyes and gave the tiniest of nods. "Bob, Harry," he spoke with firmness but not enough strength in his voice that Dresden should fear he was trying to take control over his domain, "the girls have been through a lot this night. They need to rest for a while. Do you have anywhere . . . " he glanced disdainfully at the smoking house, " . . . inhabitable?"

"Of course." Dresden turned to face his house and then, slightly to the left, spoke in gibberish and then in Latin, and suddenly a house the exact duplicate of his own appeared. "This is for you to use as long as you are here. If you need anything, you have but to ask, and it will be granted. Before you arrived, Bob and I were working on a spell that back fired. We will fix our mess while you rest." With a quick wink at Cole, he added, "We will try that again but with a whole lot less cinnamon. It sure packs a punch!" He grinned mischievously at Bob.

* * *

Hatter withdrew his hand from the magical boots sitting on the forest floor as he sensed a change in the air currents. He smiled at the young male that stepped through, a bag flung over his furry shoulders. He watched in appreciation as the short man approached with a walk that exuded natural grace and powerful sensuality. Sweeping his feathered cap off of his furry head, he bowed before him. "Boss?" Deep, green eyes gazed imploringly up at him. "The word in the woods is that much magic is afoot tonight and you may have need of me."

"I do indeed, Puss." Hatter picked the boots up off of the ground and handed them to him while Will took another swallow of Innocence. "Take these to the safe. I'll meet up with you."

Puss' long, orange tail swished through the air as he examined the boots. He took them in one paw and ran his other paw over the material. "Fine bo-"

"Uh uh!" Hatter warned in a hushed whisper. He pressed a finger to his lips and looked pointedly at the young man who was continuing to drink his medicine as though he'd never tasted anything better in his entire life.

"Ah," Puss mused, his green eyes lighting with mischievous understanding, "I see." He briefly kneaded one boot. "Very well. I shall see you down there."

Hatter nodded and sent Puss on his way through the trunk of a tree.

* * *

Dawson walked and walked, hoping he had not lost his way to the town. He carried Faith's gun and talked to it as though it were Faith. "I'll find you, my love, and will rescue you. Together we will overcome that monster!" He walked until he thought his feet would fall off, and then when he could hold up no longer, he spied a cave and cautiously entered.

"Just have to rest a little while, Faith, and then I'll come after you. You'll see, my love; I'll be there soon." Lying next to the wall, he laid down, putting her gun under his head. Seconds later, he fell asleep, never knowing that this cave was used by highwaymen and that as soon as the chief one managed to get out of town, he'd be coming to his home. If Dawson had only gone around to the back of the cave, he would have spied an entrance that led to the home of one very notorious blade. He slept on in ignorant bliss.

* * *

Piper stared, open-mouthed, at the house that had suddenly appeared. If she had not been clinging to Cole already, she would have sat down hard. As it was, when she was finally able to regain her composure enough that she could look to Dawn and Paige to check on them, she sighed and leaned her head against Cole's strong shoulder. Both girls had now fainted!

Salem briskly kneaded Paige as he, too, sighed. "Do these young Witchlings ever have a lot to learn!" He could teach them, though. He knew he could for he had taught millions, even if Dawn might be the easiest-spooked pupil he'd ever had. "A little help here?" he called, his tail cutting through the air.

Oh, how he missed having hands! With hands, he could have done anything, but without hands, and without his magic, he was only a cat. Maybe he couldn't teach them. Maybe he shouldn't be here. Maybe he should stop trying to reach for the dreams he still secretly sheltered in his heart.

No! he cried, his green eyes flashing as his head snapped up. He would never be just a cat! He was Salem Saberhagen! He may have lost the battle, but the war for freedom would never end until it was won! If he didn't carry it on, some one else would. It continued every day that one of his kind was mistreated by the "normal" humans and fought for every time any of their people dared to stand up for their rights to live, be happy, and love and worship as they chose to do so.

Defiance shone in his green eyes. He wasn't beaten! He'd never be beaten as long as there was life left in his body! He threw back his head in proud defiance and would have roared had he been a lion. He would not tell his men yet. He would wait until the moment was right. He would bide his time until they saw that he could still lead them to victory against the Hunter, his mistress, and Morningway, and then he would take them to the side, bring them into his paws, and tell them again of all they had to gain if they fought and all they might lose if they continued to pass quietly through life with their tails tucked between their legs.

* * *

"Problems?" Hansel asked dazedly, tenderly caressing Jack's loving face. "What problems, my darling? Tell me what they are. We'll handle them together." He sensed it was something new troubling him and knew, from his words and what he was feeling, that it could not be Derek who no longer mattered or the evil that was chasing after him. Never before in all his life had he felt so attuned to his feelings and all the sensations around him. Never had he felt this whole and at peace, not even when stuffed full of his favorite brownies.

Watching Hansel's face very carefully, Jack spoke, sadness sounding in his voice, "Your Father hates me!"

Hansel looked at him questioningly. "What makes you think that?" He'd not heard or seen Grey Fox do anything to warrant such an accusation.

"While you were gone to see Bobby and tell him that we were leaving, I woke up to find him in the tepee. He was about to hit me with that big stick he carries, but I managed to get out of his way just in time. He says that we are not soul mates. I don't believe him. I think it's because he hates me for taking you away after you have just returned."

Hansel stared at Jack, his forehead creased by his confusion. "What," he asked, "exactly, did he say?" What was Grey Fox playing at now? He'd not expected him to be happy when he left with Jack, but he also knew that the Shaman who he loved as the closest thing he'd ever known as a father did not hate his love. If he did, he would have alerted the rest of the village, and they would have had to fight to leave. But he hadn't and had even looked kindly upon Jack. There was more to this, as it was with most of Grey Fox's actions, than met the eye. The only questions that remained were why exactly had he said that Jack and he were not soul mates and how Hansel could convince his love that his adopted father did not hate him after all.

"He is not going to chase me away from you, Hansel. Whether or not he ever thinks that we are soul mates doesn't matter to me. I believe that we are. The way you make me feel can only be because we love each other and are meant to be together. He said that my soul mate will come from the sea and yours from the land. Makes no sense to me why he said that as though he couldn't wait for us to be torn apart, but when we left, he pressed our hands together. He's your Father. Can you tell what he means?"

Hansel smiled reassuringly as he took his beloved's handsome face in his gentle hands and caressed him lovingly. "It's okay, Jack. He doesn't hate you. Grey Fox . . . has some strange ways. He'll make himself clear in time." It was probably, Hansel thought, a test but hesitated to tell Jack that. He knew he shouldn't help his "father" in this endeavor, but he was curious as to how well Jack would pass any tests Grey Fox set before him, if, indeed, that was what he was doing . . .

"It doesn't matter what he thinks," Jack repeated his words, "I'll never give you up! You are and forever will be my only true love." He leaned into Hansel, and his kiss blazed his soul to the heavens.

It was not only Jack's kiss that shook Hansel to his very core and sent his joy shooting to new levels, far past the heavens and every star in them, but his proclamation of love. The doubts he'd had before were washed away in the light of his passion and love. He kissed him back, his tongue thrusting into his mouth and his hands eagerly and seductively caressing his flesh as he sought to share his incredible pleasure and happiness with the man he loved.

Jack gave himself up to Hansel's loving. He had never known such heightened passion, and his hands were all over Hansel, increasing their love-making even as his tongue delved deeper into his mouth, playing it like a much-loved harmonica. Then Jack screamed out in exultation as he felt the strongest climax he had yet rip through his body. He shot straight through the heavens like a shooting star and only came back to himself minutes later to find that he was lying naked on a rock with Hansel lying on top of him, naked as the day he was born, holding him tightly.

He could tell by the look on his face that he, too, was in a state of bliss. A fine sheen of sweat covered his body, making Jack want to drink it off of him. What was it about Hansel that kept Jack in an eternal horny mode? He didn't know but knew that it had to be love. Still holding tightly to him, Jack rolled them both into the water...

* * *

Hatter circled back around to Will. "So how are you finding the drink, my friend?" he asked, his head cocked slightly to one side. "I assume it is to your liking?"

"Very," Will hiccupped, "much." He smiled, and the Hatter was pleased to see the stars dancing in his chocolate brown eyes. "I've never tasted anything so wonderful!" Will exclaimed, sweeping the shotglass through the air as it filled again.

"Excellent," Hatter spoke. "I shall leave you to it for now as I've some business I must attend."

Will paused, brought the shotglass back down, and looked around him. "You trust me," he asked, looking at the countless containers that lined Hatter's shelves, "with all of this? What if some one comes in?"

"It is late night," Hatter told the boy, "almost morning! What harm could come while I duck below for a few minutes?"

Will did not wonder how Hatter could possibly go below when there was nothing but grass and ground beneath their booted feet. He did not think of the endless dangers that crawled through the forest on a full moon night, nor did he remember the enemy that had occupied his every moment since he had lost his family. He did not remember his family. He barely knew his own name. He grinned back at Hatter. "You're right," he agreed, taking another swallow and beaming with pleasure. "Nothing's going to happen! Go ahead! Go have fun! I'll be right here!"

"I know you will just like the good, little boy you are," Hatter told him as he took a package off of one of the shelves. He then promptly walked through a nearby tree and vanished from sight. Will shrugged and returned to his drink of Innocence.

* * *

Some of the Gnomes looked at the unconscious girls and then at Cole. Cole merely nodded, allowing the Gnomes to run up, pick up the girls, and take them inside the house. He took Piper in behind them, holding her by the hand. He walked all around the small cottage, which turned out to be bigger than outward appearance showed. There were four bedrooms, a kitchen and dining area, a meeting room, and a chamber room. The Gnomes carried each girl to a different room and laid them on the beds therein before creeping silently out. Cole looked at Piper before saying, "Choose your room, my love."

"It really doesn't matter," she said softly. "I think perhaps tonight I'll stay with Paige." She blushed suddenly at the way that sounded. "I'm worried about her," she explained. "Everything has happened so fast tonight! I don't regret any of it one bit . . . " She sighed. " . . . but it's a lot for them to take in." And a lot for herself, though she wouldn't admit it aloud. She leaned up on the tips of her toes and softly kissed him on the lips. "Thank you, Cole, for everything."

Cole watched as Piper moved away and into Paige's room. He went to his own bedroom and found Salem already there. He looked down at him. "Guess we're on our own. What do you want to do?"

Salem gazed intently at Cole. His tail swished purposefully back and forth through the air as he kneaded the bed beneath his ebony paws. Should he tell him of the scheme that was even now rehatching itself in his cunning mind, or should he wait? Just how much did Cole trust him after all that had happened?

Cole sat down on the bed and looked at Salem. "Boss, that was beautiful, what you did for the girls. Thanks. It was powerful and very emotional. It took me back to that horrible time. I hope it never comes again. It was hard enough to live through it once. Don't want the girls to ever have to face it on their own. I didn't intend for Piper to find out about me being a Demon; I was afraid I was gonna lose her. Thank the Goddess she didn't turn from me...Piper is so beautiful she takes my breath away!"

Salem gave a soft sigh as he gazed intently up at Cole. His tail swished through the air. "Ah," he spoke, "a man truly in love! Not a Demon," he reminded him gently, "but a man. Never forget what I've taught you, Cole. No matter what else we may be, we are each men and women doing the best we can upon this walk of life to forge a better tomorrow for our loved ones."

* * *

Clark's mind was spinning, but he knew what had to be done. He had to get Lex to safety, even if he wondered how safe it was to be practically alone with him. His mother was up in her bedroom and would stay there until morning. God only knew how long his father would be gone; Jonathan was more than stubborn enough to track the monster for days. And just what did make that being in blue fur a monster? Clark wondered. He'd not said or done a single thing to any of his family nor had they heard that he had done any other wrong to any one, so why was he labeled a monster?

Because he was different, as Clark himself was? Would not his own parents throw him away if they knew of the differences he hid every day and night of his life? And yet this mysterious, sexy man who looked at him with such pain etched clearly in his lovely blue eyes knew he was different, had felt the force of that difference, and still claimed to want to love him.

What if it was simply being different that God forbid? It couldn't be for if God hadn't made him, who had? They were supposedly made in God's image, but yet he was different than everybody else. What if those differences already condemned him to Hell, and what if it was only the difference in a man that made him love another man instead of a woman that condemned him as well? What if that was all Hell was for: for trapping those who were different from normal mankind? He had never chosen to be different, and yet he was more different from everybody around him than a cow was from a chicken.

Clark bowed his head. "Lex," he whispered hoarsely. "I . . . I don't what to think." He was scared and confused, he realized, more so than he'd ever been in his entire life before. He lifted teary eyes to seek for Lex's face, daring to hope that he might still not hate him, not fear him, and perhaps even accept him. "I've always been different," he continued, fighting to keep the tears that welled within him at bay. "I can't help what I am. I can't change that. I can't help how I feel, but I can keep from trying to go to Hell if it's not already too late."

"Clark, you're not headed for Hell. If any one is headed there, it's me!" Lex declared. "But I've already been there most of my life. No matter what I did, my Father has never accepted or approved of me. He blamed me for my Mother's death. I was only thirteen, but he made my life a living Hell, trying to force me into his image. He's the Devil incarnate."

"Many times in the past, I ran away from him, but he always found me and forced me back to my prison. I was running away from him again tonight; I almost died. Sometimes I think dying is the only way that I'll ever escape him. I wanted my freedom even to the point of dying, but you saved me! Now I only want to have a chance with you."

"You say that you're different, but then, so am I. I've never fit in, and I've never changed. We're not supposed to be alike, love; we're all different. Its our differences that make us individuals."

"Don't be ashamed of your abilities! Embrace them, use them, but do it in secret lest they try to destroy you. I knew you were different when you saved me. At first I thought I had dreamed you and then that my Mother had sent an Angel to save me for though she is gone, I've always felt her spirit near me, encouraging me, trying to protect me, loving me, and giving me strength to go on. I think she sent you to save me! She would have liked you, and I don't think she would have condemned me for my feelings for you."

"Don't throw what could be away!" he pleaded with him, his eyes never leaving Clark's face.

"Lex," Clark spoke slowly, shaking his head as he pondered in amazement over everything this poor man had been put through, "I'm sorry for what's happened to you, but . . . " His words trailed off. How could he make him see that he didn't really have a choice? How could he make him understand that he couldn't bare the thought of his parents hating him for what he was? " . . . I can't."

* * *

"STAY AWAY FROM TH' LASS!" the young woman screamed, and Hank noted the chains that swung as she swept her arms between the men and the cowering child behind her. His blue eyes gazed upon the frightened girl who crouched low against the ground, and he swallowed hard. It was not the fact that the girl was covered in fur or had pointy ears, a bushy tail, and whiskers that filled his heart with rage. It was not even her tears that moved him so. It was instead the fact that her dress was torn and clung loosely to her trembling body.

"Mighty big roar fer a skirt," the man in the lead remarked. "Move away from th' child, or share her fate. Sinister won't take kindly ta ya interfering."

The redhead spit at the man, narrowly avoiding his boots. "I di nae care what Sinister will take kindly tae, ye creep, but I doubt even he will like th' way ye've chosen tae play wit' us taenight! Has he nae told ye tae keep yer grubby mitts off the children?"

The man smiled in the soft moonlight filtering in through the tent flap, but that smile suddenly vanished as Hank stood and his massive bulk blocked the light. Everything inside the tent immediately went pitch black, but three could see fine in the darkness. The young woman's green eyes seemed to glow in the dark as they met the pair of yellow orbs. "Who are ye?" she asked.

"That does not matter," he told her. "Take the child and get out. I neither know nor care who these man and their leader are, but their reign of terror ends tonight."

"Big words for a little man!"

"Little?" Hank repeated, a dangerous smile spreading slowly over his face. "If you could see, I doubt you would use such an adjective." He stepped to the side and allowed just enough moonlight to enter the tent that the gang of men could glimpse his body. He stood at only five feet and eleven inches, but his entire body was covered with rippling muscle as well as his accursed blue fur.

"Oh, yer just another freak!"

"Why do so many persist in the usage of that turn of phrase?" Hank questioned. "Do you not know that is not nice, or is it that you fail to realize how such a disgrace worsens your predicament?"

"Get him!"

The men moved as one, pulling out knives and guns. Hank flew into action, kicking the guns out of their hands as the young woman, holding the child close to her furry breasts, ran out of the tent.

* * *

Salem could sense Cole's agony and held his other thoughts to himself. Cole was not ready. None of his people were. He himself truly wasn't, but there was no other choice. Life gave him none.

This world they lived in, wherein far too many of their people constantly suffered, had stolen that choice away from him centuries ago. It was either to live his life daring to right the wrongs that befell those of his own kind or to turn a blind eye to their suffering and allow the prejudice, hatred, and fear that mortals felt toward them simply because they were different and, therefore, must be monsters to continue to cause endless suffering to his people. Whether man or cat, Salem had never been able to turn a blind eye to unjustified suffering.

A small part of his mind told him that he should warn Cole that, as long as the world was not in the paws of the one man who would fight to make sure that all their people were protected and given the chances to live and love as they chose that they deserved, such tragedy as had affected the coven of Witches wherein they had discovered Penelope Halliwell would continue to happen, but his heart and soul pleaded with him to give the poor boy a chance. He, like all the rest of their people, deserved a chance at happiness, and that was the one thing, more than any other, that Salem's failure had cost the brave souls who had followed him. He would find a way to fight again and this time win as he should have the last time, but he would not cause his people any more suffering. There had to be another way . . .

Salem curled up into a small ball and slowed his kneading. He tipped his tail underneath his chin, yawned audibly, and closed his eyes. "Good night, Cole." Yet his mind continued to spin. There had to be a way . . . to gain freedom and happiness for all . . . but how could he do it without . . . endangering his people even more . . . and causing them to lose what little of their lives and joy they'd managed . . . to piece back together?

His furry, pointed ears twitched as a voice whispered in his mind. "You will find a way, Salem. You always have and always will for you're the only one fit to rule the world; the only one who will protect, care, and love us all. Thank you for saving my granddaughters and helping Piper to overlook her own prejudices to be happy."

Salem's eyes flew open. "Did you hear that?" he asked Cole.

Cole had been lying on the bed with his arm flung over his eyes when Salem had asked if he had heard something, but Cole had been lost to his dreams of his beloved Piper and had not heard anything. "Did I hear what, boss?" He wondered what glorious dream had awakened Salem.

"Nothing," Salem mused, the tip of his twitching tail striking the bed. "It must have been nothing . . . " His voice trailed off as he resumed kneading the bed. He didn't know what it was about kneading that he found so comforting, but the action always seemed to help him. {Nothing,} he added silently, {but a ghost of a memory from the past . . . }

* * *

The Fieries scampered to obey, grabbing body parts that were both their own and their friends' as they went. They patched themselves up as they hobbled back into the shadows, not caring where the parts they used had originally come from. Some muttered words about the woman being a party pooper; others still talked about the man they'd freed Faith from being insane and too wild even for them. Only one, who stooped low as he slid an eye back into his bare socket and whose fur and feathers were especially long and scraggly spoke to the woman. "He's all yours, Kat. Make your father proud."

"I will," she hissed as she glowered at the man. For the first time, she moved out from the canopy of trees, allowing moonlight to illuminate herself and her two companions. A tabby cat lay on top of her shoulders, his thin body twining about her neck. His claws kneaded one of her shoulders, and his green eyes glowed.

It was the horse, however, that brought surprise screeching through both the man and woman who watched the stranger approach. The stallion was so big that he would have even dwarfed Faith's beloved Tornado, and his coat was as red as fire. His eyes, too, seemed to glow as they focused on the bounty hunter, but it was the horn on his head that shocked the onlookers the most. "Shall I run him through?" the unicorn asked, his voice deep and grave.

"Nae," the woman called Kat hissed. "That'd be too good fer th' likes o' this bloody bastard."

"Ya think ya can take me, frail?" the bounty hunter asked, fixing her with one of his fiercest glares. He gestured at himself with his hands. "Come an' get me, bitch."

Kat dismounted smoothly. She did not even appear to see Faith; her emerald eyes were focused only on the bounty hunter who wore the skin of a tiger. "Ye t'ink ye take strength from th' poor, innocent tiger ye butchered? Ye t'ink yer man enough tae slaughter me friends, innocent animals who live here fer protection? How dare ye!"

"Yeah, I dare," he said, grinning and flashing his fangs. "I dare that an' whole Helluva lot more. Tell ya somethin', darlin'. I dunno know what those things ya an' th' whelp down there call friends are. I ain't ever seen anythin' else like 'em before, but it sure felt good ta slice an' dice 'em. Thanks fer th' exercise. Now how 'bout a little kiss?" His arms reached for her, his claws sparkling dangerously at the end of each hand.

"FOC IL LEAT!" Kat screeched. She shot a fist forward, and a bolt of fire smacked the hunter straight in his mouth.

He fell back, stunned, a hand going to his mouth that still sizzled. He tried to speak but couldn't. His lips had been burned straight off, and the fire was still burning him as it seeped down his throat.

"HOW DARE YE COME INTO ME FOREST AN' KILL INNOCENTS! HOW DARE YE TAKE THEIR LIVES!"

Suddenly he wanted to explain that it had been in self defense, but he no longer had mouth or tongue with which to talk. He spread his hands wide before him and feigned the look of innocence, but his attacker was not fazed in the slightest. "HOW DARE YE KILL ANIMALS, YE FEIN TRUAILLEATHOIR? FOR EACH LIVE YE'VE TAKEN, YE'LL BURN!" She threw out her fists again. A ribbon of fire wrapped around his muscular torso, and another bolt him straight in the groin.

"Kat," the old, tabby cat spoke from where he now sat at attention on her shoulders, "we have to hurry. Don't forget Jamey's out here somewhere."

Her emerald eyes flashed again. Had this monster seen Jamey? Had he hurt him? Had he killed him? "Wildfire?" she asked.

"The foal lives, Kat," the mighty unicorn spoke. "I sense him in my heart, but he is far from here."

"We have to hurry," Captain persisted.

"Very well," she spoke. "Hurry we shall." She turned to Faith, who stared at her in amazement. This had to be the Kat O'Hara warned of in the legends.

What a night! she marveled silently. She'd gone from being on the top of the world, the strongest, most invincible bitch to ever roam the wild, wild West, to being knocked down, beaten almost to death, her whole world turned upside down, and now . . . Now was she going to die from a fire that she could not hope to defend herself against? There had to be a way . . . "I love animals!" It was the weakest defense she had ever used, and she knew already that it wouldn't work.

"Di ye? Is tha' why ye called the Fieries tae save yer worthless, human hide? Burn, bitch! BURN STRAIGHT TAE HELL TH' BOTH O' YE!" Kat's hands shot out, and flames engulfed both Faith and the man who'd come so close to killing her.

Gaelic words spilled from Kat's mouth as she watched them burn, their screams playing on her ears. She knew they were not innocent. No human was innocent. The man had killed many of her friends, and this puny girl had called on them to come to her rescue and, thereby, brought them to their deaths as surely as the man's claws had done the actual killing.

They would pay, she swore, with their very souls, but she would not stand here and wait to watch the finale. She could not for another innocent soul trembled somewhere out in the night, desperately needing her. Kat turned her back on the bonfires of the living, walked back to her friend, stroked his nose, mounted, and rode on. She never once looked back for she knew that the Fieries who still lived would be safe now and that the fire she had created, once its purpose in the world was fulfilled, would simply sizzle away into nothingness and harm nothing else.

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	27. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**

Jack came up out of the water before Hansel did. He lay on his back, looking at the moon and composing a song for the man he loved. Words tumbled round and round and then started to pour out of Jack as though he had waited all his life to sing this song:

"_You leave me breathless.  
You're everything good in my life.  
You leave me breathless.  
I still can't believe that you're mine.  
You just walked out of one of my dreams,  
So handsome you're leaving me  
Breathless._

And if our love was a story book,  
We would meet on the very first page.  
The last chapter would be about  
How I'm thankful for the life we've been given.

You don't even know how very special you are.

You leave me breathless.  
You're everything good in my life.  
You leave me breathless.  
I still can't believe that you're mine.  
You just walked out of one of my dreams,  
So handsome you're leaving me breathless!

You must have been sent from Heaven to Earth to change me.  
You're like an Angel.  
The thing that I feel is stronger than love, believe me  
You're something special.  
I only hope that I'll one day deserve what you've given me,  
But all I can do is try  
Every day of my life.

You leave me breathless.  
You're everything good in my life.  
You leave me breathless.  
I still can't believe that you're mine.  
You just walked out of one of my dreams,  
So handsome you're leaving me  
Breathless."

His voice trailed off, making it softer and softer as he repeated the last verse, his heart filled to the brim with love for his special love.

* * *

"Boss, you can relax here," Cole tried to assure Salem as they laid together on the bed they had been given for the night. "We're safe here. But if you need me, just call me, and I'll be there for you. Always!" Cole begin to drift off to sleep...

Salem realized that Cole was falling asleep and let him go, keeping the thoughts that bubbled within him to himself as he had for centuries and even before the curses had befallen himself and his people. Cole would be there for him, but was it fair of him to use him? He and the others had already suffered so much.

He gazed at Cole with sadness glimmering in his green eyes. What would happen if they tried and failed again? The Council, Salem knew, would kill them. They wouldn't give them another chance to live, even if it was surviving their own worst possible Hells by the skin of their teeth. He couldn't ask him to stand by him and risk that again. He couldn't ask any of them to do so for he feared they'd all say yes and all live to regret it.

Salem leaped off of the bed with the silent stealth of his cat body and padded out the door. He had to think. He had to come to grips with whatever his future was going to hold. He had to decide what he was going to do. He couldn't turn a blind eye. He knew he would fight as long as he was able to, and now that he was free of the Spellmans, he once more had a chance to stand for all that was right and protect his people. He had to fight, but on the same paw, he couldn't ask anything more of those who had followed him before and been thrust into misery because of his failure.

* * *

Prue anxiously watched the tent, hoping Hank would return but hearing him attack something inside the tent. Seconds later, a woman carrying a child ran outside, looking around for somewhere safe. Prue called to her, "Come here! I'm with him." Why was the woman in chains, and why did she have a weird-looking collar around her throat? Just what was going on in that tent?

The redheaded woman ran to the strange, white woman dressed as an Indian. These people were bizarre in appearance, but yet they were the first glimmer of kindness she had witnessed since her own mother had sold her into Sinister's service years ago. She clutched the kitty child to her chest, her hands stroking the girl who mewed pitifully. "I di nae knae who ye are," she told the woman as she reached, "but I thank ye. There're others here . . . "

The redhead stopped speaking suddenly as a new woman appeared beyond the Indian. "What's going on here?" the guard demanded, a green glow lighting her balled hands.

"Shego! Please stop an' listen!"

"Shut your whining, Wolfgirl, and just tell me what's happening." Her dark eyes went to the tent from whence fighting could clearly be heard before going back to the redhead and falling up the child in her arms. She saw the kid's torn dress and demanded, "What the Hell happened?"

"They attacked her, Shego! Please ye must ha'e a heart in there somewhere! Di nae call Sinister tae these fine people! If'n nae fer 'em, I'd probably be dead - "

"Like I give a damn!"

The redhead's green eyes met the brunette's dark gaze. "Nae 'bout me," she acknowledged. "I knae tha', an' I understand. But can ye honestly tell me, lass, that ye would nae care if'n a child was raped?"

Prue's hands clenched. She wondered, if she concentrated hard enough, if she would be able to throw the girl that now threatened them away from them. Could she save them, or would Hank return only to find them taken prisoner again? She could feel the power building in her and waited for her chance...

"They did _**WHAT**_?" Shego thundered.

"Th' bloody bastards were tryin' tae rape her!" the wolfwoman snapped, her green eyes blazing.

Shego had never heard the younger woman talk in such a way, but her words did not give her pause. Nothing gave her pause as she turned her back on the girls and stormed into the tent . . . Nothing, that is, until a body flew through the air and hit her right in the face. The impact was so strong that Shego was sent sprawling out of the tent and onto the desert ground.

* * *

"All I'm asking you for right now, Clark, is your friendship and to not hide from your family but also not to reveal your abilities to them. It hurts to know that you don't feel for me what I feel for you, but if you will be my friend, I can live with it."

"My time is running out; he will be after me soon. Who knows, maybe he'll kill me this time? Put me out of everybody's misery! I stole from him, and nothing gripes him off more than somebody stealing his stuff. That's all he ever thinks about...his possessions! Lionel Luther owns the world. All the men and women in it are just puppets on a string, and when he pulls it, they dance to whatever tune he desires."

Lex got warily to his feet. "Show me the way to town, and I'll head that way. I don't want to bring his wrath down upon you and yours!"

"No," Clark spoke defiantly. "You're staying here, Lex." He reached out and snagged his hand. A jolt of warmth spread through him from the simple touch, reigniting the fire that already burned deep within. "I didn't say I don't feel the same about you, Lex. I don't understand this and I know you think it's okay, but it's really wrong. My Mom's a wonderful person; she'd never lie to me about this or anything else!" And she was the one person in the whole world who Clark had sometimes thought he might be able to talk to about his differences and not be hated by, but Lex, a complete stranger to him though his heart sang otherwise, understood, did not hate him for them, and was instead excited by them.

"Lex, look at me," Clark pleaded, and when he had caught his eyes with his, he continued, "I don't understand how I feel. This is all happening too fast, but there are a few things that I know and no one's going to change my mind about them. You are not a monster! You're probably the most caring - and definitely the most understanding - man I've ever met! And I'm not going to stand by the wayside and let your father kill you!"

"There's a lot I don't understand. I know my parents would be afraid of me and Dad would probably hate me, if Mom didn't too, if they knew about my differences, but for now, at least, and for all my life so far, they love me. I don't understand how a father can be as cruel as yours has been to you, but I'm not going to let him hurt you any more."

Without thinking about what he was doing, or the consequences thereof, Clark stepped closer to Lex, closing the distance between them, and placed his hand upon his face. "You're scared, and you're confused too. I know you are. Who wouldn't be in your shoes? Stealing's wrong too, but I'm not going to tell you to turn it back to your father if he's the only one you stole from. I'm also not going to turn you over. Stay with me," he pleaded.

Then it dawned on him what he had said, and he realized that he was touching Lex's face, caressing him gently and running his thumb over skin that felt smoother and more wonderful to the touch than anything he'd ever felt before. "Stay with *us*," he corrected, lifting his hand from his handsome face but not letting go of the hand his other hand held tightly. "You'll be safe here. I'll protect you." He grinned at him, but there was still a tinge of sadness to his grin. "You know I can."

"It's not safe for me to stay with you, Clark. My Father eats people like your family for breakfast." He did not pull his hand from Clark's but held his back just as firmly. "Would you want him to have that chance, or would you do your best to stop him? Of course, you would stop him, but then he sees your abilities and he captures you! Then you have lost and you become his puppet! I won't let him have you!" Lex declared vehemently.

Leaning into the hand that had graced his cheek, Lex smiled briefly. "For just one minute in time, Clark, I feel your heartbeat, and it is enough!"

He didn't understand what was happening to him. Confusion warred through his brain as sympathy, ache, and love screamed through his heart. "We should be allowed more," he whispered, not realizing that he spoke the words aloud until it was too late. He hung his head, but his hand remained. He could tell Lex took comfort from the simple gesture, knew he was hurting, and silently refused to fail to do what he could to ease his pain.

His heart cried for him. He had been through so much, and all at his father's hands! What kind of world did they live in where a child could not trust his parents not to hurt him, not to kill him even; where a man was judged not because of his actions but because of who he loved or what power he held over others; where love must be refused just because the simple act of doing so was a hideous evil? "It's not fair," he whispered.

He shook his head and raised his gaze back up to Lex's. He'd heard sad stories often enough in his short life that he knew life wasn't fair, but this was the saddest of them all made even worse by the fact that it had happened to a wonderful, sweet, and caring man. "I can take care of myself," Clark swore, his blue eyes burning with determination, "and you and my parents. I won't let your father hurt any of us, especially not you. I won't let him lay hands on you ever again."

"Stay with me, Lex," he said, failing to correct the word that he knew he shouldn't speak. "He won't harm any of us, because I won't let him. My strength is only one of my differences. Give me a chance, and you won't be sorry."

Give him a chance. The words he spoke echoed in Clark's own ears. He yearned to give him a chance, but he knew it was wrong. And then he realized that he was already wicked. He had powers that his parents would say could come from only the Devil himself. He was already going to Hell. What difference would one more sin make? He gazed into Lex's eyes, his mind spinning over all that they'd talked about, his heart yearning, and his soul aching, and then he kissed him.

* * *

Eyes watched the boy intently as he became even more innocent, drinking steadily from the glass. Hatter had told him to watch and wait, but he hated to see the boy throw it all away. He had been so brave earlier, though somewhat foolhardy, in his attack upon the Hunter. He knew the boy didn't remember any of it... As the boy called William reached for yet another drink, he called out..."I wouldn't keep drinking that stuff if I were you!"

William froze, the tips of his fingers barely touching the shotglass. His brown eyes swept his surroundings. "Who said that?" Were the trees now speaking to him? Anything was possible. He looked up at the nearest tree. "Did you say that?" He hiccupped as the world spun pleasantly about him.

"I might have or have not said that, young sir! Beware of drinks that are given too freely..." A huge grin appeared in the air from the branch William was looking at...

"Oh, it's you!" Will exclaimed with a grin. "Come down here, and I'll pet you." He stood up and reached his arms up toward the branch. "You're a good, little kitty cat, aren't you?"

He didn't understand what he meant by bewaring drinks. What would a drink do to him? What could a drink to him? The silly kitty didn't know that drinks couldn't hurt. It was humans that hurt them instead, when they drank them, but then could that really hurt? After all, they weren't alive . . . Were they? He peered puzzedly back down at his drink but saw no movement.

"I cannot come down there. You're not supposed to know I'm here. The Hatter told me to watch you, and watch you I did, but I am not a silly feline that needs to be petted, young man." Although the idea had its own merit and intrigued him, he couldn't lower himself to that point. "You need to sit down and quit dancing around before you hurt yourself! Put that drink down at once!"

Will looked up at him, his bottom lip jutting out. "Hatter said to drink as much as I wanted to." He narrowed his eyes at the floating grin. "If he's your owner, you really shouldn't go against what he says." He swallowed another full glass and belched loudly. Grinning from ear to ear, he announced, "Besides I've never felt better!"

* * *

Salem walked through the house, gently pushing each door open with his ebony paws and checking on the girls in turn. Piper had fallen asleep with Paige in her arms, tears still glistening on her cheeks. Under Salem's watchful gaze, Paige murmured in her sleep but hushed when Piper held her closer. "It's okay, Paige. I'm never going to let you go," Piper spoke while never waking. "I won't lose you too."

Salem watched over the sisters until they fell into more peaceful sleep before going to Dawn's room. She, too, was having troubled sleep, and as she whimpered in her dreams about her mother and sister, Salem jumped onto the bed. A deep purr rumbled reassuringly from his throat as he licked her face and hands. Dawn reached out in her sleep, pulled him to her, and settled down.

It felt good to have kind arms around him again and gentle hands upon his fur, but as Salem lay with Dawn unconsciously petting him, he remembered again the reasons why he had stayed with the Spellmans. He'd tried a few times to break free from their punishments but only a few times, because he knew he deserved everything they dished out. He might have had the best of intentions, but his good intentions had caused lives to be extinguished far too early, hearts to be torn out, and Hells to befall each of those brave men and women who had followed him. Remembering their punishments reminded Salem that he did not deserve gentleness or love, and he wriggled smoothly out of Dawn's arms, left her room, and continued pacing.

He walked out the front door of the house, sat down upon the top step, and pondered his situation as he gazed up at the full moon. At one time in his life, he had been so close to reaching up and controlling her beauty, giving it only to those who deserved it, but now she was as far away and unreachable to him as she was to all the mortals, if not more so. He had had such power then, and he had still failed. What could he possibly do to help any of his people, now that he was only a cat?

He had no powers and just enough feline strength to pull off feats that would have been extraordinary to most cats but were mundane to even mortals. He had hopes that could never be achieved and dreams that he would be foolish to reach for, and yet . . . Yet, Salem knew that he could not turn a blind eye to the suffering of his people just as he could not ask for those who had once followed him to ever risk everything that remained in their worlds to do so again.

A tear trickled down Salem's furry face. It would be so easy to break down here, to sob his heart out as he'd so often done at the Spellman Manor. Hilda and Zelda had laughed at him, but every now and again, Sabrina had actually seemed to care. She had petted him perhaps once a month, but even she had used him for her own personal amusement time and again. He had been nothing to the Spellmans but a bothersome toy, but he had caused so much endless suffering and so many countless deaths that he did not deserve even that.

No!, Salem roared at himself. He had to stop thinking like a pansy. He couldn't endanger the people who had followed him before, but that didn't mean the fight was over. There had to be a way to help his people. There had to be a way to bring down those who made them suffer and to free those who were still suffering in his name.

He shook himself, his sleek, black fur momentarily ruffling before settling back into his place along his body; then he started to walk down the steps. There would be a new tomorrow and a brighter future for all of his people. He simply had to find the means to make it happen, and he would or his name wasn't Salem Saberhagen!

* * *

Logan growled to himself as the smell of burning flesh met his sensitive nose. He could not believe that he was also smelling Victor coming from the same direction. His horse ran full out, bringing him to the horrible, fiery scene within scant minutes. He leaped from the saddle and ran forward, confronting a nightmare straight out of hell itself: two bodies were being consumed alive totally by fire!

He recognized one as that of Victor and knew not who the other one was. Grabbing the frailer of the two, Logan knocked her to the earth and frantically rolled her until the fire was out. Then he did the same for Victor. He hoped Victor's healing factor would kick in, but if it didn't, Logan would give him some of his own blood.

It had not been too long ago that Logan had given him more than blood. He had given him love or, at least, what passed for love. It had not been of his own choosing that they had gone their separate ways. It was beyond him now to know what had done this to him for he had thought nothing would ever bring Vic to such a low pass. What kind of creature could have done this, not only to a woman but to one of the most dangerous beings, albeit also the most exciting male, Logan had ever known? Outward, Logan remained calm, but inside, his heart cried out in agony for what had been done to his ex-lover.

* * *

Lex wanted to believe that Clark could care for and protect him, perhaps even learn to let go of his fears and love him, but he knew better. Despite all of Clark's words, Lex knew they were just that... words with good intentions. Lionel would grab Clark in a heartbeat, find a way to control him, and use him. Lex was stunned by Clark's actions and words, and then he became even more stunned when Clark's lips touched his so softly they could have been the gossamer wings of a butterfly.

Lex's mind fluttered as though it had wings, but he managed not to give in to the emotions warring within his body. He, the Devil's son, had beguiled an Angel, and he would lead him down the road to destruction, but not if he could help it. Lex wanted to pull Clark into his arms and have his way with him, but he knew if he did, Clark would never get over it and that he would not be able to live with himself.

As long as Clark believed it was evil for them to love, it would be. Lex could not bear it, to come so close to Heaven yet have to turn around and leave. He wanted to cry out loud because of the unfairness of it all. He pushed gently against Clark who turned puzzled eyes upon him and whispered hoarsely... "No!"

Clark's mind was whirling now more than it ever had before. His heart thundered in his ears as every part of his body screamed both from the pleasure of the kisses he had shared with Lex and the stinging of his rejection. He forced a sad smile as he gazed upon him and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry," he told him. "I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me . . . "

And yet had not Lex kissed him just a little while ago? Had he not been the one to stand there before him and cry out that their feelings were not evil and that it was okay to do what he had just done? Clark was more confused than he'd ever thought possible, but he forced himself to accept his rejection out of the knowledge that he should not spread his evilness to the good man before him and the acceptance that, despite his words, Lex clearly had his own doubts about their feelings. Or perhaps it was the fact that he'd just realized how much of a monster Clark truly was?

Clark shook his head again. He didn't know. He didn't understand any of this, but he told himself it didn't matter and turned away. "Come inside," he told him again. He might have to drag him kicking and screaming to the safety that awaited them just inside the house, but he wouldn't let him stay in danger. He would listen to his refusals all night long if he chose to give them, but the one thing he absolutely would not take no on was Lex refusing to come inside where it was safe. He would be safe; Clark would make sure of it one way or another. He walked toward the house, expecting him to follow.

* * *

Cole's dreams were troublesome to the point he tossed and turned until he fell out of the bed. He woke up and, for a minute, did not remember where he was. He sat back on the bed and looked around. Where had Salem gone? he wondered. Should he look for him?

He did not fear for his safety but worried more about his pensiveness. Had he gotten into more memories of their past and was even now brooding over what could have been? Getting back up and being careful not to bump his head on the doorsill, Cole went in search of Salem.

Cole followed slowly in Salem's steps. Checking each of the girls' rooms and seeing that they were asleep, he quietly closed the doors and continued on. He was in time to see Salem leave the house, and so he followed quietly behind him to see where he was bound. What new adventure lay in store for them Cole didn't have a clue, but as long as Piper and Salem were in his world, he was content.

* * *

Other people were beginning to come out of the tents as the wolfwoman looked at the Indian. "Ye say ye're wit' 'im? I di nae knae who ye are, but can ye help me free th' others?" Her eyes pleaded with her. "Most are here o' their own free will, like Shego there, but Falisha an' I're nae th' only ones imprisoned. Please," she asked, her green eyes begging her, "will ye help us?" Though she'd given up believing the God whom she had been taught to pray to by the same woman who had sold her into slavery years ago, the shewolf prayed for a miracle to Any One willing to grant it.

"Show me," Prue told her without a moment's hesitation. "We will free them if we are not caught!"

Clutching Falisha close to her chest, the shewolf ducked into the shadows and led the way to the nearest tent where she knew others were being held. As the tent came into their sight, she saw its guards running off in the direction of the fight and ducked back behind another tent. Her furry, pointed ears could hear something bubbling inside and mad cackling. She looked at it apprehensively and waited to give the guards enough time to pass.

"What is that noise?" Prue whispered to the shewolf. She watched as every one seemed not to see them but kept rushing towards the main tent. She prayed that the Beast would not get captured.

Her fur bristled as the cackling grew louder inside the tent, then began to slowly disappear. "Doctor Drakken. He's an evil Scientist."

Falisha trembled inside the redhead's arms, and she held her closer. "It's okay, wee one. We'll nae be lettin' any more beasties hurt ye."

"N-Not . . . b-beast . . . " the child whispered. "M-M-Man . . . "

"An' tha' 'twould be th' worst beast o' 'em all. Come, lass. They're gone now." She raced forward into the tent where she knew her friends would be.

"Rahne!" a thick Russian accent exclaimed. "What is happening? What are you doing here?"

"Vhat happened to Falisha?" a German accent demanded. The tail of the blue man who spoke twitched like mad through the air.

"There's nae much time tae explain, lads. Kurt, there's a blue man back there. A big, blue, furry man. He saved me an' Falisha." She knew that Kurt was a teleporter and hoped that he could help the other blue man if he could get far enough away from the little, green boy who cowered with a pink lad about his same age in the back of the tent.

"We will help him," the bigger of the two men announced. He ran out the flap as Rahne turned her attention to the frightened children. "Leech, Artie," she called to them, "come with us." She knelt on the dirty ground and held one arm out while keeping her other arm wrapped securely around Falisha.

The boys ran to her. "Leech free?" the green one asked.

"If th' Saints be wit' us," Rahne prayed.

* * *

Hansel had surfaced just in time to hear Jack begin to sing, and although his love sang about how he left him breathless, it was Hansel who felt his heart beating wildly, his head spinning madly, and his breath vanishing in the light of Jack's beauty, song, and love. No one had ever touched him like he did before, and Hansel had to admit that the bond that was forming between them was indeed stronger than he'd ever thought love would be. He didn't know what to name it if not love, however, and his heart soared even higher at the thought that this was why Jack had waited to tell him how he felt.

He climbed out of the pool beneath the waterfall and walked over to his love, his blue eyes admiring his naked body in all its masculine fineness as he moved. He laid down beside him, gathered him in his arms, and listened in awe and rapture as he continued his song. His hands ran over his body as he sang, seeking in their loving touches and seductive caresses to tell him how much he loved him. He didn't have the gift of song and wished he could answer Jack as beautifully as he sang but added his wondrous Gypsy's singing to the ever-increasing list of things he loved about him.

When Jack reached the last verse of the song and his voice began to get softer with each new line, Hansel finally leaned up on his elbows and gazed directly into his dark, enchanting eyes. "You amaze me," he told him sincerely, "and I love you more than I know how to say. I never want you to change." He leaned down and pressed his lips to his in an embrace that was almost reverent. His hands picked up speed as they continued caressing him and began to sweep further downwards. His fingers trailed over his mighty steed that was already beginning to rise again.

Jack reached out to hold Hansel close to him. "I don't have anything to offer you, my love, except my heart and soul. I am gifted with song and when I hold a guitar or another string instrument, I can play good enough that my Grandmother once told me that I could make the Faeries dance! I was born with these gifts, but I've never had need of them before. But now . . . "

He reached out, took Hansel's hand, and brought it to touch his chest where he could feel his own wildly beating heart. "My heart beats only for you! It is so full of love I feel that I will explode if I don't sing about it!" He lifted Hansel's palm to his lips where he first kissed it and then nuzzled it with his lips.

Hansel sighed at the lightning bolts that Jack's nuzzling sent coursing throughout his entire body. They washed through him like rivulets running through a river and set his very soul on flame once more. "I never wanted anybody as many times as I want you! I don't think I could ever get enough of you!"

His eyes gazed deeply into his. "And as for giving me things, Jack, you've already given me more than I've hoped to have in a very long time! You've given me my life back, my family back for we will be together again when this is all over and our enemy is defeated, and have taught me what real love is all about! There's nothing more I want than to live happily with you in my arms and in my bed," he winked suggestively at him while his smile turned coy, "for the rest of my life! I love you!"

"And I love you more every second I'm with you! But alas, I also draw the enemy ever closer. I want to take you and hide, my love, so good that the Hunter can never find us. You have given me more happiness in my life in the one day we've been together than I've had in a lifetime without you! This is our special place, our sanctuary, our paradise . . . !"

"One day we will return, but for now, it is not safe. I feel the sands rushing like the sands in an hourglass, whispering you're out of time! I will not be out of time, and I will not lose you ! Though it be near or far, my heart, lead me away from here lest we linger too long..."

"I want a lifetime with you, not just seconds stolen in love! I want to write your name in the stars intertwined with mine for all eternity!" He gazed into blue eyes that were more beautiful than the sky on a hot Summer day and made him just as hot as the sands of the desert under a blistering sun, knowing they could not linger yet never wanting to move again.

Hansel kissed him again but forced himself to keep the kiss gentle and to pull away quickly. He sighed as he ran his hands lovingly over Jack's handsome face. "I know you're right, my darling, and we should be moving, but know this too. We're already entwined. You are my soul mate, no matter what my Father says, and our souls will be together beyond the veil for forever and beyond." He gazed confidently into his sensual eyes. "We will defeat the Hunter," he swore, "for we have love on our side and there is no power greater! We will love together, celebrating our love, for many years to come, and then our spirits will continue the celebration until we come again to this world and find ourselves once more, and every time we come, alive and in love in each other's arms!"

He sighed. The light of the full moon shone upon his shaggy, blonde head as he bowed his head slightly. "But you are right," he admitted. "We should be moving. Tonto?" he called, looking up but not seeing his loyal pinto. A soft breathing led Hansel's questing gaze to see the horse standing before the water pouring down at the waterfall. "Tonto?"

Tonto didn't turn around. He continued to gaze into the waterfall where Hansel saw something flicker. His ears folded against his head, and he let out a long whinny.

"Jack," Hansel spoke urgently, grasping his hand and jumping up, "get up! Tonto, come away from there!"

Why was Hansel's voice so urgent? Had He found them? Jack breathed a prayer to his Goddess and clung to Hansel's hand, determined they should not be lost from the other. The beauty of Hansel's words sang like a song to Jack's heart and soul. He was thankful that Hansel felt they were soul mates for he, too, knew that they were.

What in the world had Tonto found? Jack wondered. That horse was as bad as a dog at stirring up trouble!

* * *

"Did you ever hear the story of Alice?" the cat asked, still only his smile showing. How many glasses had the boy consumed? Surely the Hatter had not meant for him to consume so much?

"Alice who?" Will replied. "Why waste words on women? You must have something better to talk about!" He gazed up at him, one brow cocked, and swayed slightly. "Or is that why you won't come down here and let me pet you? Because I'm not a chit?"

"Alice was a woman who fell into Wonderland by mistake. She had many adventures while here. One of the things she kept getting into was all the pills and things Hatter left all over the place. She even grew into a giant at one time! The thing was, whatever she wanted appeared enticingly, and she kept eating or drinking and changing until she finally got out of here. Do you want that to happen to you? What have you got against women?"

Will stared at the cat in disbelief, then shrugged. "Girls have cooties. Maybe she can't changing because of the cooties." He grinned. "Being a Giant might be neat fun."

"Suit yourself, my friend, but don't blame me for your hangovers! Girls do not have cooties." The cat showed all of himself then and stepped down from the limb. He had to stop the boy from taking too much. What was keeping the Hatter? he wondered. He moved over to stand next to William. "Where's that petting you promised?" he asked. If the boys hands were on him, then he couldn't continue to drink.

"Oh so _now_ you want to be petted?" Will asked. His brown eyes narrowed as he eyed him suspiciously. "Hey, you aren't a girl, are you?"

"NO!" the cat shouted. "I most definitely am not a girl! Are you a girl?"

"No!" Will giggled. Grinning from ear to ear, he reached out; picked the large, magical, purple cat up; and pulled him into his lap. Then, at long last, he started to pet him. "This is fun," he commented. "I like petting kitties. I never got to back home." That's when his memories started flooding back to him. "H-Home . . . " he whispered. "D-Daddy . . . " he whimpered and began to cry.

"Drat, damn, tarnation! What is wrong now?" the cat inquired. At least the boy was no longer drinking, but now he was crying as though his heart was broken.

"D-D-Daddy!" Will sobbed, burying his face in the cat's fluffy fur. "H-He's d-d-d-dead!" His voice erupted into sorrowful wails.

"Who or what killed your father?" the cat asked as he gently stroked the boy's hair.

"B-Bad m-man," Will whimpered in the voice of the little boy he had once been. "H-H-Hunter . . . H-He h-hunted m-my D-D-D-Daddy, and . . . an-and h-he k-k-killed h-h-h-him!" He sobbed.

* * *

Logan lit a cheroot and began to puff on it as he squatted beside his old friend. It would be a while before he woke up. He would have riffled through his pockets if he had had any left. His clothes were burnt to ashes, and only small amounts remained. "Who did this to you, bub?" he asked, his voice gruff from the emotions he fought to hold at bay.

Glancing over at the woman who lay motionless on the ground, and who was also burnt to a crisp, he figured she wouldn't make it until dawn. He wondered who she was: his new lover or a bounty...? It really didn't matter as she was done for. It was only a matter of time before Creed would come around as his healing factor was as strong, if not stronger, than his own.

Logan watched Creed intently, lost in the memories of their last conversation, remembering the taste of honey on his lips, and feeling angry as he suffered Creed's betrayal ...and ultimately his desertion. His hands clenched in fisted rage as he longed for a chance to do it all again with a man who had caused him to lose his anger many times in the past but who had never failed to love him until that last fatal day and burned to kill whoever had done this to him.

He reached out and gently stroked the hard, furry chest wherein beat the heart that Logan still wanted to claim for his own... "Vic," he moaned his name and only the wind answered him...

* * *

Salem walked, his tail curled around his right hind leg, not knowing or really caring where he was going. He stopped when he came to a pond, gazed into its darkened waters, and struck his reflection with a paw. He wasn't supposed to be a cat! He yowled his discontent. He was supposed to have been ruling the world, providing a safe place everywhere for all the people who had none simply because of their species or religion!

Then Cole's scent came to him on the night breeze, and Salem gazed deeper into the water in search of the half-Demon's reflection. "Cole. How long have you been following me?"

"Forever and until eternity, my Liege!" came the immediate reply. "What would you have me do?"

Salem turned around and looked at Cole in shock. One of the benefits of having the senses of a cat was that he could easily smell the difference in a lie and the truth. He never would have thought Cole would have lied to him, and his nose affirmed that he spoke the truth. He stared at him in disbelief, tears shimmering in his green orbs. "Even after . . . everything . . . that's happened . . . " he asked, stunned, " . . . you would follow me?" He did not deserve such loyalty!

"Salem, you did all you could for our people. Forgive yourself for your shortcomings! I do not blame you. The time wasn't right, but next time it will be and you have always been my leader, my General, my friend. I will follow you, and so will the others!"

Salem stared at Cole, his mouth hanging open and his green eyes shining with renewed hope. "There will be another time." The words were meant to be a question, but yet by the time that he had finished speaking them, Salem knew there was no question about it. There would be another time for there had to be another time. They could not simply disappear into the eternal night with their tails tucked between their legs for too many people needed them!

He gazed into Cole's eyes as he stood and stretched, his claws sheathing and unsheathing a single time. "Thank you, my friend. You are right, of course. There will be another time, and this time, we will win! We will regroup, take down the Hunter and his mistress, defeat Malcolm, and then, one by one, we will best them all!" he cried victoriously. "We may have lost the last battle, but we will not lose the war!"

Cole grinned at Salem in the moonlight! Salem was handsome even as a cat, he thought. His beauty as a man had drawn people to him that had simply stared in admiration; while they stared, Salem had talked to them and convinced everyone that listened of a better world. It would have been, too, if not for Hilda Spellman and her big mouth. She had betrayed them because she couldn't get Drell out of her system and out of her bed. He had read her mind and then went to where they were, taking them by surprise and stopping their enterprises, changing their worlds into nightmares.

This time there would be no Hilda, no one to awaken Drell and the council to their plans. This time they would succeed!

Salem twined around Cole's legs. "Come, my son, and let us return to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day for it shall be the start of a new world and we shall have much to do!"

Cole reached down and picked Salem up. He scratched him between the ears as he made their way back to the room Dresden had made for them. "Yes, we do have our work cut out for us," Cole agreed. "We can get it done right this time. The power is ours, and the cause is justice!" He wondered if he would sleep at all, but as soon as his head touched the pillow, he was out like a light. This time, his dream was sweet.

Salem slept in a tight ball on the pillow next to Cole's, a sweet smile curving his feline lips. This time they would succeed! This time, for the first time in history, his people would know what true freedom was, and he would be their rescuer!

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	28. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

Hatter paused inside the tree trunk, hung his top hat up on one of the tree's many inner knobs, and picked up a smaller hat. Popping it onto his head, he slid the doorway open again and stepped out into a world that was not its own world, or even another world per say, but simply another layer of the same often bedazzling, bewitching, and sometimes even confusing world he had just disappeared from. His dark eyes glanced around at the forest from underneath his hat's brown brim. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck were already standing on end, and the Hatter knew that that certainly was not a good sign.

"Ah, boss, there you are!"

Hatter looked toward the sound of the voice and saw a pair of gleaming green eyes. Puss in Boots twirled his whiskers with one paw as he strode boldly forward from the shadows. Hatter resisted the urge to comment on how cute he looked in his little boots. Puss had had an Ogre comment on that once before he'd tried to eat him, and it was still a bit of a sore subject.

They walked along a path that none but those who knew to look for it could see. Each man sensed trouble was stirring, but neither had spotted any signs of it thus far. After a bit, Puss lifted his feathered hat, turned it upside down, and brought out an object. Hatter frowned upon it as the moonlight revealed it to be a broken arrow with a bloody tip. "Take a thorough bath," he told the cat, "once you reach water."

Puss' black pupils narrowed dangerously, and he hissed. "I have no need of water for a bath!"

"You do not want to use your tongue on that, Puss. You picked it up. You carried it where you should not. Now, unless you wish to risk being sick, you must do as you are told. Bathe in the Cleansing Crystal River."

Puss sighed, his orange fur still fluffed at the thought of having to endure a hideous bath! Yet he knew that Hatter always had his reasons, and he would be wise to listen to the man the world viewed as the Mad Hatter. "Yes, senor," he caved with a slight, defeated nod. "But where," he asked, raising his majestic green eyes back up to meet Hatter's cool look, "did it come from?" The tip of his long tail twitched. "I found it in our forest."

"My forest," Hatter corrected him gently. "Remember the deal."

Puss nodded again. "Yes, senor. Your forest."

Hatter inclined his head a single time, but whether it was from perplexing thought or simple agreement, Puss could not tell. "It is from the boy," Hatter explained, his voice low and calm though his eyes continued to skirt around the forest in full alert. The very air tonight felt different. "The arrow belongs to the Hunter."

Puss hissed, every strand of his fur standing out at end. He spat and dropped the arrow, which Hatter deftly caught in a bag that he had snatched out of his jacket so quickly that Puss had not even seen the movement. He sealed it inside the bag while being careful not to touch it. "That," he explained, "is why you must bathe without the use of your tongue." He quirked a single brow and looked Puss directly in his eyes. "You have not," he inquired with a tone that was meant to leave no room for anything less than full and brutal honesty, "bathed since you retrieved this weapon, I hope?"

"No . . . No . . . " Puss sputtered, holding up his paws before him. His green eyes grew huge and adoring.

"Puss . . . " Hatter spoke warningly.

"I swear, senor, I have . . . " As he had been talking, Puss had been walking backward in an attempt to put as much distance between himself and his leader as he could, but now he tripped over a root that should not have been raised.

Hatter's head snapped up as he heard the sounds his ears had been catching snippets of ever since they'd entered the forest. This time they were louder. His eyes widened. "No . . . " he breathed and ran in the direction of the music.

"What?" Puss wondered, still sitting upon his tail. "Where's the fire?" But Hatter was already gone. He snatched up his feathered cap, which had fallen off of his furry head when he'd tripped; put it on while running two claws that gleamed in the moonlight across the wide, black brim; and then took off running after Hatter. Something was definitely wrong, and it was his duty to help his old friend get to the bottom of whatever trouble had dared to enter their forest!

* * *

Prue didn't say much, just quietly took in her surroundings and all the actions happening therein. Every being here had been very different, all creatures of some kind, and although they spoke English, none were human. Her Mother had taught her long ago that all the Goddesses' creatures were different in some way but that they were all sisters and brothers under the skin. She wished 'Ro could see them. What would she think?

"Hurry!" she told the others. "We must get far away from here before it's too late!" She opened her arms to the small, green boy. "I can carry you if you let me?"

Leech ran over to the pretty Indian woman. "Leech like pretty woman!"

Rahne smiled fondly at the boy as he eagerly let their newfound friend pick him up. She opened her mouth to tell the child that the lady had a name but shut it upon realizing that she didn't know what it was.

She picked up Artie and turned to Kurt. "Give us yer Bible," she told him. "We'll keep it safe fer ye." She knew it was the one thing he would not want to leave without. She glanced at Artie. "Won't we, lad?" The pink boy nodded.

"My name is Prue," the Indian told Leech. "I am a friend to all of you. Stay close to me. We will get out of here, and then wait for the others to join us." Holding the small boy close, she gazed out of the tent flap, and seeing no one, led them away from the tents. She hoped the others would join them soon.

Kurt's pointed, blue tail swished through the air as he walked over to Rahne. They had waited and prayed together for this night to come for so long that it seemed almost a dream for it to be upon them at last. His yellow eyes gazed into her green eyes as he told her softly, "Be careful, Leibchen," and handed Artie the Bible he had been reading when the ruckus had first began outside.

"I will," Rahne assured him. "You too."

Artie took the Bible and clutched it to his chest. He wished he could show his good friend, Kurt, what he was thinking, but his powers were not working for Leech was still too close. He loved Leech like a brother, but he wished that his being around him wouldn't keep his powers from working for his mental projection was the only way he had to talk.

Rahne glanced down at the child. "Artie wants ye tae be careful tae."

"I vill," Kurt promised, "and I'll see you both out of here and alive."

Rahne nodded as they walked together out of the tent. A guard who was running by, having been made late to the fray as he had been relieving himself in the bushes, saw them and hollered. Before he could raise his gun, Kurt leapt into the air, wrapped his tail around the gun, and yanked so hard that both the guard and his gun hit the ground. He saluted Rahne as she ran off in the direction Prue had gone, carrying Artie and Felisha.

Kurt ran in the direction of the sounds of the fight. He came across another pair of guards who were behind the rest, jumped onto their shoulders, and kicked their heads with all the might his two-toed feet could muster. They fell to the ground beneath him. Hoping that there was now enough distance between himself and Leech, Kurt tried to teleport and smiled as he succeeded.

He bamfed into the tent where he knew Rahne and Felisha had been kept and rematerialized in a dark cloud of brimstone just in time to slam into several of the guards who were hurrying to join the group of about twenty others who had the big, blue beast down on the ground outside. Kurt knocked their heads together, thus rendering them unconscious and causing them to miss the rest of the fight. He then began to lay about grabbing any guard he could get a hold of and knocking and punching them into each other. He grabbed one of their guns in his tail, flipped it around, and began to use its butt as a weapon.

He could see Piotr fighting out of the corner of his eye. His friend's armored body shone in the moonlight as he pounded guard after guard into submission. It did not take them long to get the guards off of Beast...

* * *

"Wait! You misunderstand me, my love, and I'm not going in there yet! If we continue, you must be sure within yourself, Clark, that we are not evil! I want you more than any one I've ever known... I want your kisses; I want all of you!"

"You are not evil,; we are not evil... But you must believe that as I do otherwise we are doomed from the start. I am willing to wait for you, but once you touch me in believing, there will be no turning back. Do you understand me, Clark?"

"I don't want to go into your house with your Mother maybe overhearing us! I want to hold you! I want to drink your essence into me until I purge all evilness out of my soul, but you have to believe!"

"Lex," Clark said, turning around to face him with his emotions raging in his baby blue eyes, "listen to yourself. You just said you yourself are evil! I can't change what we are. I can't change what I am, and what I am," he shook his head sadly, "must be evil. There's no other explanation for the strange things that I can do. My powers have to come from Hell. They can't come from Heaven for I'm different for all other humans, all of those who were made in His image! And if I'm not made in His image," he cried, "then who else's image could I possibly have been made in?" He knew there was only one possible answer to that question; he just didn't know how to make Lex understand what he knew to be fact.

And yet Lex still wanted him. That thought brought a surge of relief and joy that was darkened with his next realization. Although Lex wanted him, he wanted him to be good, and that was something that he could not be for he could not change how he had been made. He was what he was, and there was nothing he could do about it. Tears filled his eyes, but he fought to keep them from falling.

Then he heard a long, low howl. "We really should go inside . . . " he tried again.

"Clark, you are not evil, but your mind tells you that you are because you're not like them. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you didn't come from this world? My Mother used to tell me tales of Fairies and Elves and about Changelings. Have you ever heard about them? Maybe you are a Changeling!"

He reached out and gently wiped Clark's tears away before they had a chance to fall. He caught one on his finger and brought it to his lips where he kissed it. He heard the howling but chose to ignore it. Pulling Clark closer to him, he shut the barn door, shutting the world outside.

"It's safe in here, love," he told him. "Come into my world! Believe!"

* * *

. Hansel gave Jack's hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze before moving forward. Jack had not released his hand but had instead walked with him, so Hansel used his other hand to reach out and stroke Tonto's back. He whickered softly to him, telling him to come away from the water, but the stallion whickered again and tossed his head back so swiftly that he almost hit Hansel.

That's when Hansel saw the reflection in the waterfall. "Jack," he gasped, "there's a man in there!" He knew about many of the Supernatural races that coexisted with humans and animals in their world, but what was this new creature? He studied him carefully. The man didn't appear to see them. He had short, white hair that was cut close to his head and a most sour expression. His mouth opened, but Hansel could hear no sound coming from the waterfall or the man he saw therein. The water shimmered, and the man was gone!

Tonto let out a sharp whinny. Hansel whickered to him again, reassuring that it was okay and telling him to relax, but he could feel Tonto's tenseness underneath his palm. His own guard remained up and at full alert as he gazed into the waterfall. "Did you see him?" he asked his love.

Jack continued to hold Hansel's hand even as he stared in confusion at the waterfall. "I saw some one in there too," he was quick to reassure Hansel. "Do you know him? Why was he looking at us like that?"

Hansel shook his head. "I don't know him. I'm not even sure he saw us."

Tonto whinnied and struck out with a hoof. "NO, TONTO!" Hansel's eyes nearly popped out of his head when the horse's hoof disappeared! Tonto screamed and jumped back. He knocked into Hansel and Jack and sent them sprawling, but when Hansel lifted his head, his horse was still in tact! "What in the Hell is going on?" he cried, looking to Jack and hoping he had the answers.

Jack shook his head in disbelief as he got back onto his feet. What was going on here? He reached out one arm and pushed it through the waterfall. He couldn't see it but could still feel it. He pulled it back out. Nothing was wrong with it. He grinned at Hansel, "Dare we try it? Wonder where it goes? If it turns out to be a good idea, maybe he would never think to follow us thorugh the waterfall. We'd be safe."

"But could we get back," Hansel wondered aloud, "and what if there's something worse waiting on the other side?" He reached out, grabbed Jack's hand, and gave him a gentle tug. "Come away from there, love. We don't know what we're dealing with."

Tonto whinnied, and Hansel nodded in agreement. "Witke!"

Again the man appeared in the waterfall, and Hansel jumped back, pulling Jack with him. The man's eyes looked so sad that for a moment, Hansel didn't fear. Then his fingers reached through the water. Drops of water fell right through his very hand!

* * *

The Cheshire Cat wished that Hatter would get back. He wasn't sure what to do with the crying man/child. He felt sorry for the lad and continued to pet him gently on the head. Then suddenly an idea came to him! His long, purple tail swished with excitement as he purred thoughtfully, "Will, perhaps I can send you to be with your Dad before it happened?"

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He gazed thoughtfully up into the big, brown eyes of the latest lost soul to tumble into his and Hatter's territory. Of course he would, Cheshire knew. What orphan did not want to be reunited with his parents? His hind claws slightly kneaded Will's trousers. He couldn't manage his mother for he had no clue about the woman, but he could return him to his father!

Hatter was going to be mad, but it couldn't be helped. He wasn't going to let the boy keep crying or drinking the potion, and Will was already remembering the Hunter. Soon he might remember that he was hunting the Hunter and go after him, and in the shape he was in, he would end up getting killed!

Hatter had only left one person alone in his office before for such a long period of time, and that one had ended with disastrous results. She had kept drinking the potions until she had burst into flames! If Hatter complained of his actions, Cheshire Cat would reason that he was to blame to start with for he had left the boy alone for far too long and set this vial of Innocence to where it would continue to automatically refill itself until he either took the spell off of it or there was no one left to drink it.

The Cheshire Cat grinned to himself as he figured what he had to gain from the argument that would undoubtedly ensue and sighed at the memories. Had it really been such a short time ago, only two hundred years, that he could . . . ? The cat shook his head and forced down his urge to yowl. Now was not the time for remembrance; now was the time for action! Magic was apaw, and he had the keys!

He looked back up at Will who was beginning to slow his sniffling and dry his eyes. Cheshire Cat liked the boy and had no intention of him getting killed or bursting into flames. He grinned a lopsided grin and waited for Will's answer.

"Y-Ye could do that?" Will gasped as he stared at the cat in amazement through tear-filled eyes. His Daddy was dead! It couldn't be possible for him to even see him again, let alone be with him again . . . Could it? And why did he have the nasty feeling that the bad man who had killed his daddy wasn't gone but was lurking just around the next bend in the ocean? He looked fearfully around him and hugged the cat closer to his body. Where had the ocean gone any way? "W-Where's th' o-ocean?"

"Don't worry, Will; we will find the ocean. You see these oak trees? They all have hidden doors. We merely have to find the right door, unlock it, and - voila! - there you'll be at the ocean, hopefully with your Father! We just have to find door #9 . . . "

He felt as though Will was choking the life out of him! "If you could loosen your hold just a little?" A sigh of relief washed through him as he finally spotted the door. Now he wondered, {How do we unlock the door? Was it words or a real key?} He'd seen Hatter open the doors a million times, but each one was different.

He looked to Will with a puzzled look on his face hoping he had a clue as to how to open it...

"Open up, tree!" Will cried. "Give me my Daddy!"

* * *

Reaching Prue, Rahne called to her, "Keep giing! Di nae turn back nae matter what! Th' further we get Leech away from th' lads, th' better chance they'll have!"

"Why is that?" Prue asked, looking at the small, green boy. So small yet he could hinder the men and their fighting.

"We are what is known as mutants," Rahne explained. "Each o' us a special ability, a power if'n ye will, which is why Sinister wanted us. Leech, bless his heart, steals all powers away simply by being near the mutant which is why I'm nae longer in wolf form."

Artie looked questioningly at Felisha.

"Felisha does nae change, Artie," Rahne explained, "because she is nae a mutant. This is how she is, half human, half cat."

Felisha rubbed her face against Rahne's shoulder. "We're gonna make it, right, Rahney? We're getting out of here tonight, right?"

"Aye," Rahne assured her, "an' we'll ne'er return." Her green eyes widened as she heard explosions behind them. "Run faster!" she instructed Prue as she ran as fast as her human legs could carry her and longed for the speed of the wolf.

Prue ran fast as she had been taught; the small, warm body clinging to her reminded her of all that could be lost if they were caught. Never once did she look back, although she longed to know if Beast had made it and was coming.

* * *

Clark stared in disbelief at Lex. He had never met any one with such wild ideas, or any person who simultaneously confused and enthralled him. He was spouting crazy talk again, but yet Clark still wanted to pull him close, let him kiss him all over, and do even crazier things to him! He shook his head in wonder and eyed him suspiciously. Just how crazy was he?

But then, if he was crazy for believing in the impossible, how crazy was he himself for doing the impossible? He could lift a house. He could run faster than the fastest mustang and fly. He could see through solid things and see things that even science was still trying to figure out. Lex might be crazy for believing in what he believed, but if he was, surely Clark was crazier still.

He shook his head slowly, his confusion showing clearly on his face, but his tears were gone, washed away in the flow of Lex's love. "Mama says they don't exist," he finally said.

"My Mother said that they do exist. I suppose it just depends on where you come from whether or not you believe they exist. Whole worlds are out there, Clark! Worlds we can't see, but they are there just the same! Mother used to tell me that if some one writes about something, it happens! Maybe not on this side of the dimension we are in, but on the other side that we can't see. A man has only to write it, and another whole world could appear!"

"But Fairies and Elves have been around since the beginning of time. It was only when people stopped believing in them that they crossed over to the other side with all the other magical creatures. Every now and again, when a special child is born, one that can truly make a difference in the world, they come back and exchange a child. Have you ever talked to your Mother about when you were born?"

"No," Clark mused slowly, "I haven't. I know Mom and Dad didn't think they could have kids until they were blessed with me. Or at least that's what they call it, a blessing. Doubt they'd think the same if they knew what I can do." He gazed at Lex intently, wondering if he was as insane as he was handsome.

"I think it's time we go up to the house, Clark, and ask your mother what she believes and if she thinks you're Satan's spawn. No more hiding from her. She's your mother; she loves you. It would break her heart if she thought for one minute that you thought of yourself as such. I'll be with you, and you will know the truth at last. The truth will set you free!"

Clark stared at Lex, his mouth hanging slightly open. Now he knew the man was crazy! He shook his head. "No way!"

"Why, Clark? Do you fear that she will reject you? Mothers aren't like that! Fathers are bastards that will kill you dead. Yours is no exception! But your Mother will answer your questions. Don't you want to know?"

Clark shook his head. "Not at the risk of losing her. I don't think my Father would ever hurt me with his hands, Lex, but they wouldn't understand." He gazed at him in wonder. "I still don't know why you're okay with it. Anybody else would be terrified of me, including my parents. They wouldn't think I was the Devil's spawn, but they would think he was possessing me!"

"Then don't ask her about the other, but do ask her about your birth. Clark, you won't lose her. She's your Mother, and she loves you. Just tell her that you are curious and want to know how you came to be."

He inclined his head into a nod. "Okay," he accepted and held out his hand. "Now will you come with me, Lex?"

"Yes, gladly will I come; my love will be with you always." He held tightly to Clark's hand as they made their way into the house and began to climb the stairs to Clark's parents' bedroom. He wondered what Mrs. Kent would tell Clark and prepared to hear the worst.

* * *

Jack had been about to listen to Hansel's wise words and leave the mystery untouched when an arrow came winging its way straight for Jack's head. If he had not leaned down to pick up an especially shiny stone to give to Hansel at that very moment, it would have pierced him right between the eyes, killing him dead on the spot.

Jack's frightened eyes stared at the still-quivering arrow where it had pierced the rocks surrounding the waterfall for a second before he grabbed Hansel's hand and tugged him into the waterfall. As they disappeared from his sight, Tonto whinnied fearfully and charged the waterfall. All of them made it safely through the waterfall.

It was then that Jack looked at Hansel and spoke softly, "I've got to get our clothes!" It was as though he had only now realized that they were still naked!

"You're not going anywhere!" Hansel exclaimed, his blue eyes still huge from seeing the love of his life nearly being struck down before his very eyes. He looked up fearfully. Where was Tonto? The evil that was chasing Jack surely would not hesitate to kill his equine best friend!

Hansel sighed in relief when he found Tonto standing right behind them. The horse blew hot breath across the man's face as he butted him gently. Hansel cupped his long face in his hands and rubbed him tenderly. "Thank the Gods we all made it through alive!" There was not rocks but grass beneath him. He wondered about that but would wait a few minutes while giving thanks and reassuring Tonto before checking their surroundings out more thoroughly.

* * *

Hatter tore through the forest as though his booted feet had been given the wings of Mercury. Gone was the amicable chap who seemed so eager to please the world, and in his stead remained a grim and determined man. He did not think of the friend he was leaving behind as he ran. He thought only of that toward which he was running. He could hear another friend's growls, roars, and screams of anguish now as well as the stomping of her huge feet, and each sound that met his ears made him run all the faster. It was his friend's roars that drowned out the music until the trees broke around Hatter and he found himself standing in the midst of chaos.

"DRAGON!" he cried. "WHAT'S WRONG? WHY ARE YOU NOT FIGHTING THEM?" Before him, a huge, purple dragon danced, stomping her feet and slapping her tail. Each tree that her tail hit fell to the ground with a pain-filled scream as they were torn from their very roots. Around the dragon, across the piles of treasure, and over the fallen trees scampered ugly, little men. Hatter recognized them immediately as hobgoblins.

They squeaked when they saw him and ran more swiftly away in the direction they were all heading once they had retrieved a piece of Hatter's hard-earned treasure. Hatter heard the music of a pipe being played, but he was too shocked and infuriated by the sight of the thieves to give it any thought as he charged on. He sprang in front of the nearest hobgoblin, who squeaked and knocked his tiny, green knees together. Hatter reached out his hand for the treasure the thief held. "Give me the harp."

"No!" the hobgoblin cried. "Missus kill us!"

A slow smile spread over Hatter's handsome face; it lit his dark eyes. "She'd have to get in line." He ripped the harp from the hobgoblin's small arms with one hand while balling his other hand into a fist. His right fist slammed into the hobgoblin's face. It flew over the dragon's head; the beast snapped at him but missed.

Hatter looked up at her through inquisitive eyes. "You're not all gone, are you, lass?" he questioned.

Then, from around the dragon's massive legs, a man dressed entirely in black finery danced into Hatter's sight. "YOU!" Hatter exploded and ran at the piper, his right fist held at the ready.

He never reached him for, with a sly grin, the Piper stopped playing his pipe, turned a dial on it, and began again. Hatter immediately stopped. His anguish at the man before him fled, and he looked dazed instead. Dragon shook her head as though she was coming out of a dream, growled low at the piper, and whisked her mighty tail through the air. Hatter jumped to his defense, grabbed her tail, and pulled with all the strength his right hand held. As Dragon screamed in pain, Hatter held on through the images of a man being turned into a cat playing in his memory, the hobgoblins scurried away even more quickly with their pieces of Hatter's treasure, and the Piper's eyes danced with his amusement.

* * *

Hank blinked up at his rescuers from two swollen eyes. His body ached all over, and memories had been flashing before his yellow eyes as the guards had almost pounded him to his death. He could tell he had several broken ribs, but nothing else appeared to be broken as he rose to his full, towering height. "Thank you . . . " he managed though it hurt to talk. "Who . . . are . . . you?"

"We are friends, comrade," the muscular man who wore armor over every inch of his body that Hank could see spoke. "Take him, Kurt. I will come."

"Oh, no, you don't!"

"Boizhe Moi!" Piotr groaned and turned to face Shego who had finally regained consciousness and now turned upon them with her face glowering and her pale hands glowing.

Hank quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at Piotr's turn of phrase. It was only a woman, and he highly doubted she had Ororo's special abilities. How difficult could she be for the three of them to take? Then he turned, caught sight of her glowing hands, and instantly regretted the question. "Oh my stars and garters!"

"DUCK!" Piotr commanded even as Shego let lose with a huge energy ball.

All Hell erupted when Shego let the energy balls loose, but they did not hit their targets as Kurt grabbed Beast and bamfed further down the line of wagons. "Hurry, mein freund, ve must go vhere our friends wait. I can not carry you there. Can you walk on your own power?"

"Affirmative, but what of our other friend?" Hank asked. He gazed down the lane and saw the woman's energy balls bouncing harmlessly off of Piotr's armor.

"GO!" Piotr shouted at them.

Hank ran even as the very earth shook beneath his paws. "To borrow a phrase, I am afraid we are not out of the woods yet . . . " He slammed to a stop as a massive bulk of a man walked out. The stranger was so big that he took up all the space between the tents.

"Bad muties!" The huge man belched. "You won't get away from the Blob!"

"The Blob?" Hank asked Kurt. "Is he serious?"

"I'll make Sinister proud!" Blob continued. He began to stomp his feet, causing everything in the vicinity to shake.

* * *

As he walked beside him, Clark wondered why he had to feel the way he felt and be what he was. Why was it that craziness always entered into his life? Why couldn't Lex be sane? Why did he have to have weird powers? Then he looked across at Lex and knew that, although he might willingly give up his powers, he'd never willingly give up this crazy and wonderful man.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Clark started to head for the guest bedroom, but Lex continued on. Puzzled, Clark followed. Then he realized where he was going and swallowed hard. He had not expected to talk to his mother tonight! As they neared his parents' bedroom, however, Clark could tell that the light was weak which meant his mother had blown out her lamp and only the candle remained lit.

He reached out and gently grasped Lex's arm. "Tomorrow," he whispered.

"Tonight, Clark! Your father will have returned tomorrow," he reminded him gently. "Things will be different then; you may never know the truth unless you ask her tonight."

"But . . . " Clark started to say but looked back up as he heard soft footsteps inside his mother's bedroom. His heart roared in his ears as the door began to open . . .

* * *

The solitary man who had sat before the waterfall, gazing into its depths and wondering about his condition, had shrieked when two strangers and a pinto pony had charged through the waterfall. He had been knocked down in the process and now lay beneath a very naked man. He sat up through him and felt a tiny rush.

He sighed and shook his head mournfully. Surely passing through a handsome man could not be the only way he could get his jollies off forever? He and his beloved kept trying every spell and concoction for reanimation without zombification that they could find, but nothing had even come close to working! He gave another sigh before standing and looking back at the naked men on the ground.

The horse whinnied; whisked his long, white tail; stomped his hooves; and gnashed his teeth in warning. The men who had disturbed the spirit's thoughts stared up at him in horror. "Well, don't look at me like I rained on your parade," he told them, a ghostly hand perched atop a very slender hip. "It was you three who came bursting upon my sanctuary and nearly trampling me in the process!"

He narrowed his eyes and looked disdainfully down his nose at them. "Just where did you come from any way?" he demanded coldly. "You weren't here when I started my meditation, and this is hardly the locale for your little rendezvous when you should not even be stepping one foot upon these holy grounds!"

Jack looked at the man that he realized he could now see through. "You're a ghost! Where is this place? Can you help me get our clothes?"

"This place," the man replied through gritted teeth as he felt trusted friends gathering close, "is my home! You are the trespassers here, and you will be the ones answering the questions!"

Holding his arms out and his hands up so that the stranger could see he held no weapons, Hansel got slowly to his feet. "We mean no harm," he spoke just as slowly.

"I didn't think you did," the ghost returned icily. "Humans don't normally attack in the nude."

A grin chased over Hansel's face at that comment. "True, true," he agreed, trying to hide his amusement. Tonto whickered, and Hansel could tell from his horse's big, brown eyes that he was sharing his laughter.

Jack let Hansel do the talking. The man seemed to be pissed off at Hansel and him for trespassing. The Hunter had left them no choice except to run and hide quickly. He didn't want to reveal that to the ghost, however. "Can you help us get our clothes without our enemy seeing us? If so, we could leave very quickly, and you'd never have to see us again."

"And where would you," the ghost demanded of him, "when this is our world and your enemy waits just beyond the waterfall?" He turned with a dramatic gesture of his hands to gaze into the waterfall where the Hunter was even now peering.

Hansel screeched, snatched Jack, and pulled him away. The ghost smiled at them, and then, suddenly, from all around them, little men popped up! Tonto whinnied, and Hansel barely swallowed his own cy of surprise. "Take them to Dresden," the spirit sneered. Hansel didn't know who this Dresden was, but he didn't think he'd have anything good in store for them!

* * *

Every strand of Puss' orange fur fluffed out immediately as the scream of a dragon echoed through the forest. At that sound, all the spirits within the forest began to flee. Shivers raked through Puss as he paused at the sight of every one of his alliances abandoning the forest. His pointy ears perked up to catch their words, and the tip of his long tail curled around his booted feet at the cries of the spirits who bemoaned the stolen treasures, their dying friends, the wretched misery that would soon engulf them all, and a horror that none could stop.

Puss shook himself, forcing his fur to settle back down into its proper place. He drew his sword, and his emerald eyes glinted in the light of the full moon. "Perhaps none of you can stop it!" he called. "Perhaps you are all too afraid, but I am Puss in Boots! I fear nothing!" He cut his sword through the air in swift, dangerous arcs. "Whatever monster has entered our territory had best . . . " his voice changed into a husky purr that had the potential to be lethal. " . . . pray for mercy from Puss in Boots!"

As the spirits flew all around him in their eagerness to abandon the forest and their duties, Puss ran forward toward the sounds of the roaring dragon and something big slamming things. His every sense remained at full alert, and soon he heard the music of a pipe. Puss halted as his green eyes glowed, his tail cut sharply through the air, and a growl ushered from his throat. His fur and even his whiskers bristled. His furry lips pulled back from his mouth to reveal his fangs as his growl increased. He knew the sound of this particular monster!

Payback time was nigh! Puss reached into his boots, brought out a thick wad of cotton, tore it into halves, and stuffed each half into his pointed ears. His ears lay back against his skull for further protection as Puss tossed the shoes down onto the shaking ground, took off his boots which he tossed onto the forest floor, and slipped his hind paws into the glittering, magical shoes. "For my family!" he growled as he held his sword high and continued running straight to the disaster.

* * *

Prue watched as the biggest monster of a man she had ever seen walked forward, grabbed Beast, and lifted him up high into the air as though he weighed nothing. He would kill him without the slightest hesitation. She ran out and yelled at the thing that called itself Blob, "LET HIM GO!"

Prue concentrated all her power and then let go with her newly discovered telekinetic power, hoping to disturb the thing enough to make him let go of Beast.

Kurt looked at Prue in surprise, wondering how she could use her powers when she still held Leech. He was powerless as long as Leech was near. "Please take him back to ze others for we can not fight when he is near."

Prue had been upset when her outburst had barely nudged Blob. She nodded mutely but ran back to where she had left the others. "We have to stay far away from the others so they can fight."

As soon as Kurt was able, he bamfed to Blob's back and began to hit him with all he had.

"Danke goodness!" Piotr breathed in relief as his armor once more spread over his body. He charged Blob and slammed right into his massive stomach, but Blob just laughed as his stomach recovered from the momentary dent, resumed its normal shape, and threw Piotr off. The Russian bounced back as though he were a ball and landed on a few of the remaining guards.

"BLOB, WATCH WHERE YOU THROW THEM!" Shego, who had just reached the fray, thundered. "WE'VE GOT ENOUGH PEOPLE OUT LIKE IT IS!" She rolled her eyes. "IDIOTS! DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF?" She threw an energy blast at Piotr, but when the green energy had disappeared, the Russian was still standing.

"Silly, little woman," Piotr commented. "Did you really think your energy could touch my armor?" Shego yelled her outrage and threw another, stronger blast only to see that Piotr was still standing after her energy blast had sizzled into nothingness.

Meanwhile, Blob was keeping one hand in a vice grip around Hank's furry throat as he used his other hand to swat at Kurt. "Pesky Demon! Blob swat you like a fly!"

* * *

"We've got tae hurry an' get oot o' here," Rahne told Prue in desperation, "before he finds out we're free! We're nae make it oot o' here if he gets here! Kurt needs tae take th' lads an' jest bamf oot o' here, but he will nae di it as long as he t'inks we may still be in danger. We've got tae . . . "

"You've got to wot, wolfie?" asked a dark voice thick with an Australian accent as a man stepped into the path Prue and Rahne were taking with the kids.

"DUCK!" Rahne barely had to scream before a wall of fire shot straight at them. She covered Felicia and Artie with her body and tucked her head, hoping her back would take the brunt of the impact. She prayed Prue and Leech would be as lucky.

* * *

The lad's enthusiasm made the Cheshire Cat grin. "Will, I think I can unlock the tree. Hold me next to it." As Will held him next to the tree, Cheshire Cat used his right, furry paw to knock three times, each one louder. Trying to imitate Hatter's voice, he called out to the protector of the tree, "Please open and let one in a desperate need pass through to the world beyond worlds, there to find what an innocent truly seeks, a heart to a heart, a hand to a hand, open and let him understand..."

Will gasped in amazement as the tree really did open up. Its bark slid back like an opening doorway, and a bright, golden light poured through, illuminating the forest . . . "Wow!" he breathed. Then he leaned into the open door and called out in a voice that was loud and clear though sounding a great deal younger than it should. "DADDY?" He heard singing and leaned closer, the big, purple kitty cat still held in his arms . .

* * *

Jareth continued gazing into the crystal ball he held in his hands with a burning anger slowly replacing the coldness of shock that had settled in his heart and soul and upon his handsome face at the horrors he had just witnessed. Some one had attacked his Fieries! No one but Jareth was allowed to do that! Fury pouring into his soul, he had yelled for his beloved wife to come and join him. Some one was going to pay!

Even as he had continued to watch, some one else had showed up and fireballed the one who had been completely tearing up the Fieries' bodies. The redheaded woman had also fireballed another person, who, although he hadn't recognized her, he had known she had called for the stupid, orange creatures. He bellowed for Delvira again...

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	29. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

A storm had been brewing all day, and as night had fallen, the rain had began. After supper, of which he had not eaten much, he had grown even more restless. His heart hung heavy in his chest, and despite the rain, he had climbed to his one place of refuge.

Gibbs stood below, watching his Captain climb the mast, hoping the boy he had raised into a man would not lose his grip and fall. He was a mere shadow of the man he had once been, his once-healthy and vibrant body now only skin and bones. It had been on a night such as this that he had lost his reason for living. Now he hovered in a place halfway between Heaven and Hell, knowing that he could not ever be with the one he loved for he was truly gone forever. If he had taken his own life, he would have ended up in Tartarus and never be with him again for he was gone to Davy Jones' locker forevermore.

Nay, he corrected himself, he had become Davy Jones himself. Sometimes in the night, he imagined he could hear him calling his name, and though he had taken far too many chances hoping to hurry his own death, he had never come face to face with him. He wondered sometimes if Will even remembered him or longed for him as he longed for him but, no, that couldn't have been the case, or Will would have come looking for him long before now... Not even once had he sought him out.

He braved the storm, hoping that the lightning would strike and kill him. He knew no one could hear him way up here, so he allowed himself tears that no one could see and he screamed out into the stormy night... "IT'S NOT FAIR! I DID WHAT YOU ASKED OF ME. WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM?"

This same scene had played itself out many stormy nights. Most times, Jack spent the whole night up there. Tonight would be no exception except for one thing: Jack had decided that this would be the last time. It was a tricky climb and descent. No man in his right mind would attempt it, especially not on a storm-tossed sea. If the lightning didn't get him, then the fall was sure to kill him!

Without his lost love, the Pearl meant nothing to Jack. He had written a note leaving all his worldly possessions, including the Pearl, to Gibbs, who had been like a Father to him, and thanking Gibbs for everything he had done for him. If Gibbs found it now, it would be too late.

A lightning bolt whistled by his head, and Jack groaned. Why couldn't it have hit him? Maybe if he made Them mad enough, They'd strike him?

He yelled, "YOUR AIM IS OFF... YOU CAN'T HIT THE BROAD SIDE OF A SHIP!" Immediately he turned contrite. "GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!" he begged and hung his head and wept.

Far below, Gibbs had found the note. How could he stop his son from doing the wrong thing when he believed it to be the right thing to end his torment? As he attempted to climb up the rigging, they were suddenly enveloped in a golden light...

* * *

Delvira had been gazing into her own crystal balls, her breath hot and heavy as she watched the wild, animal sex her twin sister was having with a Werewolf when Jareth had bellowed so suddenly and loudly that she had almost dropped her balls. With a graceful flurry of her pale hands, Delvira vanished her crystal balls. Then she raced to the balcony where Jareth had been keeping a watch over his people. "What happened?" she cried. She prayed that her other sister had not returned, but she had rarely heard her husband sound so anguished and furious at the same time.

"Some one has summonsed our Fieries, and some one else has slain a great number of them. Then a third person punished the mortals with fire that she conjured. We must go and fetch our wayward subjects home. You know what kind of trouble they get into when they aren't watched. Who could be behind the burning?" He hoped she would have an answer.

"Some one, I would say, who was either concerned about our crazy friends or furious with the two for another reason, perhaps intrusion upon grounds where they did not belong? Either way, we must get to the survivors at once." She shook her head sadly.

"I knew that open portal in their part of the Labyrinth would prove to be trouble. If only we could find a way to shut it, this wouldn't have happened!" Silently regretting all that her evil sister had caused to happen in her "visit"s to the Labyrinth, Delvira drew her ruby-handled athame and began to cut a circle in the air while chanting.

Jareth licked his lips as he watched Delvira chanting and, as the portal began to form, wondered why he could not look upon her beauty and not want to take her to his bed. She kept him in a perpetual state of eternal horniness, and no matter how many times they had written their names in the stars, he wanted to keep on creating beautiful music with her. He had to turn away from her before he took her for the ensuing heat between them would leave him unable to handle the business that lay before them.

Some one had caused havoc in his land. Some of his people were dead, and the others scattered. Some one was running loose with more fire power and might attack again. She might even prove to be more powerful than both he and Delvira were together. He grasped his wife's slender body to himself even as he changed, in a flutter of leather and wings, into his dragon form. With her on his back, he dove into the ever-widening portal...

Delvira cried out from the sudden surge of hard scales between her legs. Any other woman might well have been frightened or at least unnerved to have a dragon go between her legs when she wore nothing but a mere slip of a silk dress, but Delvira was deliciously used to her husband's quick maneuverings. Her black fingernails grazed his neck as the winds whipped around them and his wings flapped. Her legs tightened their hold on him, and she moaned. She hoped they could get this business dealt with soon and get back home! It had definitely been too long since he'd taken her in his dragon form!

*Take it easy, darling,* his thoughts ran through her mind. *Don't injure yourself. There shall be time for fun and games later tonight... Now for the business at hand!* He roared his anger into the night wind, causing many beings to scurry for the safety of their hearth as the portal snapped closed behind them.

* * *

As the burst of flames came out of the man, Prue moved it to where it bounced into tents that caught on fire. By the light of the flames, she ran faster then she had ever run before. Holding tightly to Leech, she headed for home.

Rahne was surprised at the woman's power and puzzled at the fact that she could still use her curse while holding Leech. She didn't have time to ponder over the situation, however, and simply ran hot on the other woman's heels and howling, "TELEPOOOOOOOOOOORT!" She trusted that the pointed, blue ears of the man they called Fuzzy Elf would catch her cry, know they were safe, and take the others to safety.

Then, ahead of them, she heard a meow that brought her snapping at empty air in return. "Watch out!" she called to Prue. "Catra's ahead with her lioness!" She didn't see them yet for all the flames and smoke that surrounded them but knew that where the catwoman was, the pink lioness was never far behind.

* * *

"Jonathan," Martha called from where she stood in the door of the bedroom, "is that you, sweetheart?"

Clark stifled a sigh even as his full lips pulled down into a pout. "No, Mom, it's me." Why did his father always have to be chasing after some monster, working on the farm, or helping a neighbor? It wasn't fair that his mother should spend so many nights alone!

He knew she hurt because of it, but making his father understand that seemed to be an impossible task. He remembered the last time he had tried to talk to his father about his constant working and the anger that had flared in his eyes and on his face when he'd demanded to know what he expected of him. When Clark had answered that he simply wanted him to love his mother and be there for her and himself, Jonathan had sighed wearily, explained that he was doing everything he could, and set him down for a long talk.

Did adult life really have to consist of nothing more than work? Clark wondered. Couldn't there still be time for family, fun, and love? Couldn't there still be time made for a woman who devoted everything to his father, her husband? Clark resisted the urge to shake his head as his mother raised her candle and looked at him and his companion.

"Oh, my," Martha said, blushing. "I . . . hum . . . did not realize you were awake, sir. Please go down to the kitchen while I . . . hum . . . make myself appropriate, and I'll come fetch you a bite to eat. Poor boy! You must be starving after the ordeal you've been through!"

Lex smiled at Clark's mother. "It's okay, ma'am; I'm not really hungry. Sorry for waking you, but we needed to talk to you! Clark has been taking good care of me, but we have come across some problems that only you have the answers for?"

He turned so that he was not looking directly at her clothes. He knew she was embarrassed but couldn't understand why. For her to be in night clothes, she was so heavily covered in both a nightgown and a robe. He wondered why she didn't know that her body needed to breathe. All the women he'd ever been around before in night clothes had worn just as little as possible.

"Clark, son," Martha asked, instantly concerned, "what's wrong?" She looked at him with such great concern that Clark instantly dropped his blue eyes from her gaze.

"Hum . . . It . . . It's nothing much. It could wait until morning."

"Clark," Martha said, reaching out and gently grasping her son's wrist before he could finishing turning away, "you can ask me now. You can ask me anything." Her voice sounded so imploring that Clark hesitantly looked back up. Martha gazed into her son's eyes, saw the pain and doubt therein, and ached to erase them all with happiness. "What's wrong?" she asked again.

"Mom . . . " He shouldn't have come, he realized with a great sigh. Lex didn't understand! He wasn't different like he was! He didn't know what it was like to be a monster! And why should he be taking his advice, any way, when they'd just met and that advice was probably going to turn his whole world upside down and make his parents fear him?

Martha caressed his face. "What's wrong? Just tell me," she pleaded.

"I . . . . " Again Clark's voice trailed off. He had to think of something, but he couldn't lie to his mother! He'd managed to hide his powers so far without lying to her, but this was one situation he wasn't going to be able to escape out of without lying. Why, oh why couldn't his father come home now? But then, perhaps, it was a good thing he hadn't. Maybe Lex was right. Why should Lex be right about anything? They'd just met, and he was an idiot to take his life-changing advice so swiftly!

"Tell me," Martha requested softly.

Clark gazed into his beloved mother's eyes and knew he was lost when he saw the concern, sadness, and fear swimming in her gaze. He dropped his head. "Mom . . . " he asked at last, his voice barely a breath above a whisper, "where did I come from?"

Martha's mouth dropped open at the shock of hearing the question she'd been expecting ever since she and Jonathan had found Clark in the cornfield all those years ago. Her round eyes glanced to Lex and grew bigger still. Could he possibly know Clark's secret? Could he know that he had come from the stars? Could he himself be from another world? Could he have come to collect her son and take him back to wherever he'd first come from? Oh, where the heck was Jonathan when she needed him?

* * *

Jack struggled but soon found himself bound and prodded along by the little men. Jack hoped Dresden was friendly and would help them. Why did this man act as though he and Hansel were their enemies? He kept as close to Hansel as they would allow him to be and prayed for help.

When Jack had been taken, the fight had gone out of Hansel. He would go where his love went, no matter the cost, but he struggled with renewed vigor when he saw one of the small, ugly men push Tonto. Tonto whinnied and stomped at the strange people, and Hansel fought so hard to break free and reach him that he almost succeeded in snapping his bonds. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" he roared at them. "HE'LL COME!"

"Let him stay," the ghost said, "with his man. We'll get to the bottom of this interruption soon enough." The spirit sighed as he walked along behind the party. Knowing Dresden, he'd probably let them go quicker than it would take to carry them to him, he thought, his handsome, if dour, features pulling down into a pout, but they should have to pay for disturbing his peace and trespassing in their sanctuary!

And just what, he wondered with a shiver, did they have to do with the Hunter? He cleared his voice and demanded, "Why was that particular being following you? What have you done to bring his rage upon your heads?"

Tonto plodded along beside the men who carried his human, his big eyes staring at him mournfully. He made gnashing movements with his teeth, causing a stir amongst the people that calmed only when Hansel shook his head and whickered softly and the horse ceased the movement.

"He speaks horse!" one of the little men declared in surprise.

"He pursues me," Jack told the ghost. "He killed my tribe and won't stop until he gets me. Hansel is my one true love. He goes where I go, and he is the Golden Bear of legends. Tonto, the horse, is his brother. We mean you no harm but could not resist a swim in your pool. Then he found us and almost killed me. I am sorry to have disturbed your meditations, but I am not sorry that we came here. We hoped to escape him, but I fear he follows us even now. He lives to kill!"

"Tell me something I don't know," the ghost replied coolly. He sighed inwardly. It would be just his unfortunate luck to have these miscreants disturb his nice, peaceful meditation for a reason they could not help. His face ticked irritability. "Dresden will decide what to do with you lot," he announced, "but I know of no Golden Bear of legend." He sneered at one of mankind's oldest, little tricks. If the blonde was important, he would have known of him long before now.

* * *

Piotr shook off Shego's latest blast and ran at Blob even as he called to her, "You could not hurt a fly!"

Shego screamed as she threw another energy blast at the Russian, who ducked just in time to let the green energy fly harmlessly over the top of his metal head and explode into Blob's stomach. The impact sent the Giant staggering.

Kurt heard Rahne's howls and felt Blob go down. He teleported to Beast, who was falling through the air, grabbed him, and bamfed to the small group of their fleeing friends just in time to confront Catra. Being close to Leech prevented him from using his powers. He hoped Piotr would follow swiftly.

Prue stared at the woman blocking their path. Was she a cat or a woman? Whatever she was, Prue knew she was trouble...

Hank coughed violently and rubbed his throat. His head was spinning, his heart pounding in what he had thought might be its final beats, and his lungs burning and gasping for air. The black cloud of brimstone surrounding them helped neither his breathing nor his eyesight for his yellow eyes were still filled with that water that had swelled within them while Blob had been choking him. "Th-Thank you . . . my . . . my friend . . . " he managed to sputter through great, raking coughs.

His blue ears perked forward when he heard a yowling voice declare, "You'll not get any further!" He looked in the direction, saw a pair of glowing green eyes, and struck out without realizing that the new being standing in their way was a woman.

Catra yowled again as Beast's swinging arm connected with her midsection. As she fell to the ground, her lioness leapt over her and onto the big, furry man who seemed to her to be a poor excuse for a cat. Hank folded in on himself as he felt the roaring feline rushing at him, then pushed out with all of his strength. The lioness spiraled through the air and landed on top of her mistress with a confused grunt.

Running to Beast, Prue patted him on the back. When he seemed to be a little better, she smiled at him. "Will you come to my village now?" she asked. "All are welcome and will be safe there."

Beast smiled at Prue, though tears shimmered in his yellow eyes. As the Blob had been slowly choking him to death, Hank had had all his wrongs and those he had loved over the years flash before his eyes and realized, at last, that he had done wrong by them. He had not been a threat to them. They may have chosen to accept him despite his new form, and if they had done not, it would have been their own decision. Regardless Ororo and especially his beloved Bobby would have kept his secret. It should have been their decision rather or not to severe ties with the monster he had become, not his own.

His head had bowed slightly in despondent thought, but now Hank raised his head and met Prue's gaze. "Yes, dear child," he said, pulling her and the green boy she held into his furry, muscular arms and hugging them gently, "I will come, and I am sorry."

Of all the things he had done in his lifetime, Hank realized now that he only had four true regrets. One was the transformation he had cursed himself with, but he had already learned to live with that. The second, and most painful, regret was losing his beloved son this night, but he still vowed to get him back and keep him safe forever more once he had rescued him. The other two regrets was something that he prayed he would now have a chance to fix, if his adopted sister and the man he had loved almost since meeting him more than anything else in the world could find it in their hearts to forgive him. He prayed they would, though he knew he did not deserve their love and kindness.

Prue hugged the beast that she now knew had to be the Hank McCoy she'd heard about all of her life. There was no longer any doubt in her mind; this man, such as he was, had to be her father! "Mother will be thrilled to see you. Every one, come home with me please. You will be safe," she repeated for any who had not heard her.

Kurt looked at her, "Zank you, mein freund, ve vill be grateful to come." Prue started out with the rest slowly following her. The night was lit up with the fire of tents still burning smoking up the night.

* * *

Lex smiled at Martha and then asked, "Do you want me to leave you two alone?" He hoped Clark would get the answers he so desperately needed, but he didn't want to be stuck listening to things he might not should know. He could go back to the guest bedroom where he couldn't hear anything if they so desired. What was important was that Clark found out who and what he was and stop thinking of himself as a monster.

Quietly, Martha drew Clark closer to her as she studied Lex inquisitively. "Who are you, child," she asked, her voice having dropped to a shocked whisper, "to make my son wonder such things when he's never asked before?"

"Mom, it's okay," Clark tried to assure her. "He's a good man. His name's Lex Luthor."

Surprise registered in Martha's eyes. The boy was a Luthor! At least he wasn't an alien!

From Martha's reaction to his name, Lex knew that she had recognized that he could possibly be a threat. "My name is Lex Luthor, as Clark told you; my Father, unfortunately, is Lionel Luthor." How much did he dare tell her. If she knew the truth, would she throw him out of her house and lock Clark away from him? "I mean you no harm, Mrs. Kent. I was running away from my Father tonight when I would have been killed in the storm if not for Clark." He looked deep into her eyes. "I would protect Clark with my life!"

Martha had closed her eyes at the thought of the horrible life the poor boy in front of her had led. She had known Lionel Luthor many years ago and knew that he was a heartless man who thought his money could buy him anything and any one. She knew what he was capable of from the time that he had tried unsuccessfully to court her. He had nearly killed Jonathan before they had managed to run away to Los Almas. She had feared for many years thereafter that he would hunt them down and continue to do his best to steal her away from the man she loved, but her worries about Lionel had been forgotten in the wonders of raising her son with Jonathan.

When Martha reopened her eyes, she found Lex gazing intently at her and saw the truth of his words in his blue orbs. She heard the truth and power with which he spoke of protecting her child and knew, in that moment, both that Lex would lead trouble to her family and that he would die, if it took it, to protect Clark. She walked forward and wrapped him in her arms. "You poor boy!" she exclaimed, forgetting all about how indecently she looked. "You're safe here." But for how long? she wondered. And if Lex was not the reason that her son was now, at long last, asking about his birth, then what was?

Clark smiled at the way his mother embraced Lex, but that smile was stolen away in the next moment as he remembered what he had come to ask her. What would she tell him? What if he was completely different? What if his birth alone made him a monster? That thought had promise of good things, he suddenly realized, for if his birth had been so different, then his parents already knew he was different. If that was the case, perhaps they wouldn't hate him.

Yet, he had to wonder as he watched his mother with the man who burned him all the way through the top of his head and out the curling tips of his toes, if his mother was truly capable of hating anybody. For better or worse, he would soon find out, and whatever came of it, he had Lex to thank for it all. He gulped and prayed to Any One who might care for a monster that his mother would still love him when she had learned of all of his differences as much as she did now.

* * *

Dragon's eyes were filled with tears from the pain that shot through her body and the misery that ached in her valiant heart. Why was Hatter doing this? What had happened to her friend? Some sort of spell had been cast over her that had kept her from stopping the thieves from stealing the treasure she had promised her saviors she would protect with her life, but now that the spell had been lifted and she was trying to stop the nasty, little creeps from stealing Hatter's treasure, Hatter himself continued to be mean to her!

She had seen the power of his right fist before and had never thought he would use it against her. Hatter was her friend. She knew he was. After all, he had saved her life when she had been only a baby looking down the muzzle of one of the human beings' awful guns. He and the cat, Puss, had saved her then, but now Hatter wanted to kill her!

She picked up her foot and moved to crush a group of hobgoblins who were struggling to haul a cannon away, but before she could put her foot back down, a hand that had once always been gentle grabbed her foot and squeezed. She roared, but he didn't stop. She begged, but still he refused to stop. Then he jerked her foot, and she fell.

The Piper danced out of the way of the falling dragon and continued to play. He wanted to laugh at the sight that his music had transformed the Hatter into but didn't dare stop playing. If Hatter had even a moment of sanity, he would revert back to his normal form and turn on him! Piper did not want to ever feel the might of Hatter's right hand and knew he was a force to be reckoned with in more ways than one. Still his lips curled into a smile, and he fought down the urge to giggle as the very Dragon who had been put in this place to stop ones like himself and his alliances writhed, roared, and cried in pain as the man who had sworn to protect all the beings of his forest cruelly twisted her foot.

"HATTER!" a voice shouted, but Hatter did not respond. He kept turning the dragon's foot, and she screamed as her bones began to break . . .

* * *

Kurt followed the small group of his family and new found friends. As soon as he could tell that they would be safe, he slipped quietly away. When he could no longer feel the pull of Leech on his powers, he bamfed to Piotr's side, which happened to be under a big pile of rocks, and began to fight his way out from under them. As his head came out from under the rubble, he heard a growl and stared up into the monstrous bulk of the Blob, who was intent on burying them under everything he could find, the heavier the better. His three-fingered hand had been feeling around for Piotr, and when he finally found him, he bamfed the both of them to safety just as the Blob threw a cannon on top of the pile...

Piotr lay deathly still on the ground and Kurt's worried eyes sought for any sign that his friend lived and had not been crushed by the horrendous weight that had borne down upon him. "Piotr," Kurt softly spoke his name ...

Slowly Piotr's blue eyes cracked open. Gradually the darkness ebbed out of his vision to be replaced by the harsh brightness of the moon. Then, bit by bit, a handsome face covered by blue fur began to fill his eyesight. "Krasivaya," he breathed weakly.

Blob and Shego had taken him by surprise after his best friend had teleported the other blue guy to safety. Shego had blasted him into the ground while Blob had literally trounced upon him. Then the others had left in search of his friends while Blob had continued to pound him with everything his beefy hands could grasp. If it had not been for Shego's energy blasting hitting him in the face, Piotr could have taken the Giant man, but as it was, he had thought he was going to breath his last before a gentle voice had called him to open his eyes.

"Kurt," he spoke in his thickened Russian accent. "You did return . . . "

"Of course, mein freund, I vould never fail to come to you," Kurt said, his pointed tail swishing. "If you need me, you have but to call me and I vill come as soon as I am able." He smiled down into the bluest eyes he had ever seen this side of Heaven. Piotr did not realize that he had called Kurt beautiful! The slip had caused Kurt's heart to thump most painfully in his already tight chest. He must never let Piotr know how much he was pulled to him. Piotr could have his pick of beautiful women while every woman who gazed upon him ran away screaming.

Kurt didn't care as long as he could be with Piotr, see him every day, and occasionally touch him, all without Piotr ever knowing how much he really meant to Kurt. Now he reassuringly touched Piotr's cheek, caressing him gently and finally letting go of the fear he had encountered as they had been almost completely buried alive...

"Kurt?" Piotr questioned as his armor melted away and he became flesh underneath Kurt's hand. His heart pounded in his ears. The man whose kindness and beauty who had haunted the few good dreams Piotr had had over the last several years was not touching him as a mere friend, but he was so devoted to his God and loving another man was something Piotr knew the Christians frowned upon. Yet did they not also frown upon mutants and, especially, Demons?

Piotr gently covered Kurt's hand with his own. Kurt would never be a Demon to him. He was the most handsome man and kindest soul Piotr had ever known. It was his friendship that had given Piotr the strength to make it through the years they had suffered in Sinister's circus, and yet, now that they were on the verge of freedom and Piotr knew they would be caught again if they hesitated, he did not want to move. He only wanted to keep laying there, with Kurt's soft, furry hand cupping his cheek and his dark blue lips that looked as though they would taste so sweet lingering only a breath away from his mouth that ached for just one taste of his best friend's sweetness, gazing into his soulful, yellow eyes forever . . .

Kurt reached out and pulled Piotr close to him. "Ve must join the others or zey vill be worried sick about us!" He held on tightly to Piotr, breathing in his earthy scents and enjoying the feel of him, as he bamfed them to their small group. It would never do to let Piotr know his true feelings.

Was it so wrong to love one's best friend? he wondered, hoping that God would not strike him dead if it were a sin. He carried his love for Piotr deep in his heart and none knew of his forbidden love for the wonderful strong man save himself...

Whispers raced behind the disappearance of the two men. Hands clasped each other, and a bright light appeared.

* * *

Jack racked his mind trying to figure out what to say to get the ghost to at least give them pants. He had been humiliated in the past and dreaded being done that way again, especially naked, but he couldn't bear the thought of his Hansel arriving in a strange village naked. The villagers might even attack them! He watched the unfamiliar surroundings, hoping for any chance to escape, but none presented itself.

The ghost had scoffed at Hansel being anyone important! To Jack, he was the sun, the moon, and the stars, but to these people, he was just an unwanted intruder. It was up to Jack to get them out of this mess. He had gotten them into it. If he didn't, there would never be a Golden Bear. He wasn't a legend yet but, if they lived, would one day become one.

Jack searched his mind for a sleep spell that he could sing, but every song he thought of had one bad side effect: every one within hearing distance fell asleep except the singer. He knew that once he could free Hansel and himself, he could carry Hansel to safety, but there was no way he could ever carry Tonto! If he left Tonto behind, Hansel would never forgive him. If only he could speak Horse he could send Tonto away. How to get Hansel to send him away and not give his thoughts and plan of escape away?

While Jack pondered the dilemma, he failed to notice several of the little men had returned to give the ghost a report of the other stranger who had not been able to enter the waterfall to their dimension. When he had entered the chamber behind the waterfall, he had found a small cave-like area that had gone nowhere. He had returned to outside the waterfall and was even now waiting for his prey to return.

Another of the small men approached his leader, "Sir, can we not at least give them something for pants? Remember we now have ladies in our village!"

"Ladies we did not ask here," the white-haired ghost snarled disdainfully, but then he thought of Cole. He and his love owed a lot to the Demon, and he knew Cole would be upset if the women were to see these scoundrels naked. He waved a hand. "Very well," he said disdainfully, "go fetch the brutes some clothes."

"We're not brutes!" Hansel hotly declared. "We were only seeking to escape our enemy! We had no way to know that running through the waterfall away from him would land us in your home - "

"You certainly didn't check either, did you?" the ghost replied drolly.

"We didn't have time to!" Hansel exclaimed, struggling at his bonds. "We barely made it through the waterfall alive!"

"And you could have led him here," the ghost retorted. "Did you ever think of that?"

"How the heck were we supposed to know there was another world behind the waterfall?"

"There's always another world under the callous feet of you mortals," the ghost remarked disdainfully. "You just don't bother to look for it until you've nearly trampled it to death!" He clapped his hands. "Now silence, the both of you! I tire of your chattery!" And he was tired, he realized, even as he kept his head from hanging. He was tired of being a ghost, of living every day unable to touch the one man he loved more than life itself, of having no magick to defend his mate or himself with, of being a helpless, cantankerous, old fool cursed to never touch a living being again . . . He sighed wearily, then glowered at one of the little people. "And just what do you think you're looking at?" he demanded. "Go along and fetch these pale asses some clothes!" On second thought, he realized, he really didn't want his lover to see these naked men in the prime of their lives lest it remind him of what he could never give him. He clapped again. "Snap to it!"

Hansel watched the ghost through blue eyes made wary for more than one reason. He never liked being taken captive, but there was something more going on here. The ghost did have a point, he conceded to himself. They had trespassed into his home without permission and shattered his meditation. He had known of many Indians over the years who would have gladly killed a white man for less.

He hung his head as he thought over the spirit's words. It wasn't all mortals who trampled every living being other than their kind underneath them until they died, but it was almost all white men . . . He couldn't really blame him, he supposed, for reacting to their presence the way he had; he only hoped that they could find a way safely out of this mess and convince the ghost and his people that they truly meant no harm but might seek friendship with them instead if given the chance.

Hansel whickered to Tonto, reassuring him that they were okay and would make it out of this mess alive, and smiled at Jack to also reassure him of the same thing. The pinto tossed his white mane proudly and whinnied in return. He didn't like this mess one bit, and ghosts made him nervous! Another whicker from Hansel once more calmed the animal.

The ghost watched the two with interest. After all, it wasn't every mortal who could talk to an animal and know he was being understood.

Jack stayed quiet but fully aware of the rantings and going-ons of the ghost. He also managed to watch his feet to insure that he didn't stumble. He smiled reassuringly at Hansel... He had a feeling that some one had been watching over them all along and hoped that it might be his grandmother's ghost who he felt near sometimes. He remained calm and very alert for any possibilities that might present themselves for escape.

He was relieved when he heard that they would be given clothes. When he heard the ghost speak of humans who trampled into other worlds and destroyed them, Jack shook his head in denial. He had never done that before. He was getting tired of being blamed for things he knew that neither he or Hansel were guilty of. He moved as close to Hansel as the chains would allow so that he could be ready to protect him.

* * *

The Cheshire Cat had barely managed to stop himself from being pulled into the doorway. The minute the door had opened, storm water had splashed out onto them, and Will had almost run straight through the door without a backward look. Cheshire Cat had barely managed to save himself with his paws making a mad, scrambling grab for the doorsill of the tree.

Will had landed on the ship, and Cheshire Cat had closed the door. He whistled to himself as he climbed aboard the limb and waited for the Hatter's return. He hoped Will would be alright, but he was not about to take the responsibility of the outcome.

* * *

The others looked up as Kurt and Piotr joined them. "Oh, thank God ye're okay!" Rahne exclaimed, smiling. She would have hugged Piotr but had a funny feeling that her male friends were reluctant to release one another. She smiled at them even as Hank gave a startled exclamation.

"Oh my stars and garters! Get down!" He pushed Rahne and Prue down as he flipped up into the air to take the brunt of the brunette's energy ball. He cried out in pain as Shego's energy blast exploded into his furry back.

Rahne's heart sank. She had thought they would finally be free at last, but Spiral had arrived along with not only twenty other people set to capture them and take them back to the circus but Mister Sinister himself!

"My children," Sinister questioned, reaching a gloved hand out toward the gathered group as Hank fell to the ground, "why do you run from me when I have given you a home and love?"

Piotr bit back a reply as acid words leaped to his tongue. Any bad words the present children learned would not come from him. Metal swiftly began to cover his body as he pushed Kurt behind him. They would take him first before they ever touched another strand of fur on his beloved Kurt.

Hidden behind everyone, Prue, still holding onto Leech, began to slip away silently. She hated to leave the Blue Beast, but if Leech wasn't removed, no one could use their powers. How far did she need to take him? she wondered. She continued to walk silently forward, not looking back and wanting to run but not daring...

Rahne felt Prue slip away but kept her eyes focused on the enemies who were intent on dragging her friends and herself back into slavery. She knew Prue was doing what she thought would help, but Rahne feared that nothing would save them now. Even if they could beat every one else, the eight-armed, teleporting murderer, Spiral, and the invincible Mister Sinister would surely kill them if not simply cast them back into the Hell that was the only life her friends and herself had known for years.

Rahne glanced down at the little catgirl who trembled in her arms and held her tightly. The only life Falisha had ever known was captivity, being laughed at for the amusement of humans filled with hatred, and tormented to ease the anger of any one who happened to be stronger and free of the bonds that held them captive. Falisha was so afraid that Rahne could feel her heart beating against her chest. "M-Mew," she whimpered to which all their enemies but Sinister laughed.

Sinister's lips curved into a cold smile. The only times Rahne had ever heard the pale-skinned man laugh was when some one was about to die or already dying. "Mew?" Shego burst out laughing so hard that she had to wrap two arms around her stomach. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Poor little kitten," Spiral crooned mockingly as she flashed her swords through the air. "Let me cut you a new tail."

Falisha cried, clung tighter to Rahne, and hid her face in her breasts. Artie clung to Rahne's legs, and she stroked his tiny shoulders reassuringly. She wished she could pick him up, as well, and run far away with the both of them, but she knew they had no other choice but to stand and face whatever was coming.

Sinister held out a hand to stop his group while his other hand remained extending to Rahne and her friends. "No one has to be harmed. Simply come home with us where you belong, children."

"They do not belong with a monster!" Piotr spoke up. "None of us do!"

"Ooo!" Shego mocked. "Ruskie's got his hard on again!"

"He speaks th' truth. I'll nae gi back wit' ye!" Rahne told them. "An' if'n ye take the children back, ye'll have tae di it from me cold, still arms!"

"That can be arranged," Sinister announced with an air of cool authority. "Kurt?" he asked, raising a single brow as he gazed intently at him. "What of you, my son? Will you be the fool your mother was?"

Fury filled Piotr at the way Sinister spoke to Kurt. He ached to beat Sinister into the ground until there was nothing left of the Count but an oily spot, but he knew he would never succeed in doing so. Sinister could strike them all down where they stood if he so chose. They'd all seen him do such feats.

Kurt looked at Sinister, "Vhat happened to my Mother? Do you know vhere she is?"

Sinister smiled a smile that Rahne and Piotr saw straight through but could only pray that Kurt would as well. "I can take you to her," Sinister told the furry, blue Demon who had spent years studying the Bible. He took a step toward him, his hand still extended. "All you have to do is take my hand, Kurt, and come home with me. I should have told you a long time ago. I am your father."

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

The wind whipped around Jack, trying to pull him off the yardarm, and, for a moment, he resisted as the golden light surrounded him and the ship. Looking down, he could see a familiar figure looking at him. He seemed to be rather small, but then Jack figured it was a long way down there. He looked again and could not see him. {I'm just imagining I can see him.} "STOP PLAYING WITH MY MIND!" he yelled into the angry storm. "GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!"

Gibbs knew the end was near for the golden light had at last appeared to take them all to their final destination. He looked at the Angels who were sent for them and his mouth fell open... There was a huge, purple cat in the arms of a boy who looked like Will! How had he broken the contract and was no longer Davy Jones? he wondered. At last he had come for the Captain! If Jack could see him, he would certainly jump to his death!

Gibbs yelled above the storm, "THANK THE GODS, WILL, YOU HAVE COME AT LAST!" The next instant Will had jumped through what appeared to be a doorway and landed on the deck of the Pearl; the purple cat was nowhere in sight. The golden light had gone!

Jack saw Will! All thoughts of death escaped him, and he began to hurry down so quickly he was not paying enough careful attention to where he put his feet. He reached for a rope that was no longer there due to the storm and made a mad scramble trying to save himself, losing his balance and falling . . . Jack grabbed desperately at anything he could touch on his way down, but still he fell.

Finally, his foot barely managed to snag a rope, and he ended up upside down, dangling scant inches from Will's head, his arms desperately reaching for Will and Will's name upon his lips. They had listened and granted Jack his dearest wish for at long last here was his Will! Jack gave thanks to Them as he continued hanging and swaying in the wind.

* * *

There were two houses sitting before them when the ghost finally held up his hand to cease the procession of two tied-up, naked men, a dozen little men, and one very upset horse who was only calmed by the whickerings the blonde man kept ushering. "You there," the ghost spoke, casting a dark scowl upon the Gnome who was running back to the group with his arms loaded in clothes. "What do you think you have there?"

"C-Clothes?" the Gnome asked, suddenly uncertain.

"_My_ clothes," the ghost stated.

"B-But, sir, th-the only clothes available are yours and Dresden's."

"And Harry keeps his under lock and key, I know." The ghost scowled. "But they'll not be wearing my clothes. Either find something else or they go naked."

The little fellow dropped his head with a sigh. "Yes, sir." The ghost was a wonderful being, until he got into one of his temperaments as he was now. An idea came to the Gnome, and he started to dart away toward the other house.

"And don't be going and waking them up either," the ghost announced.

"But, sir, where else am I to get clothes to fit these two big humans?"

The ghost smiled thinly. "Use your imagination, Ronald. I'm sure you'll think of something. Meanwhile, the rest of you keep a tight guard over the intruders while I go wake Harry."

A mumble of affirmation met his ears, and the ghost walked into the first house.

* * *

If they had not been in such dire straits, Jack would have laughed at the comical reactions of the one called Ronald. He had heard of Gnomes and Dwarves but had never encountered them before. They seemed terrified of the ghost. Jack wondered if the ghost was always in such a bad humor or if it was simply Hansel's and his unlucky arrival. He hoped that the one called Dresden was more understanding as to their predicament and would turn them loose.

Since no one was holding him away from Hansel, he moved close enough to touch his love's arm. He would have liked to have been able to hold his hand reassuringly, but the ropes that bound his hands were too tight. He whispered to Hansel, "Courage, my love! Perhaps this Dresden will not judge us so harshly. I love you!"

Hansel smiled. "I love you too," he whispered in return, despite the looks the little people gave them. He smiled brightly at them. "What? Haven't you ever loved any one with all your heart?" Such muttering broke out that Hansel was sure the ghost would fly back to them at any second in an even worse temper than before. He offered his love a shrug and sheepish smile.

Faith always had told him his big mouth had a tendency to get them into trouble. He'd been in worse binds with his sister over the years, but none that were any stranger came to mind. She'd gotten them out of almost every one, but he felt confident that the love he and Jack were blessed with would guide them out of this mess and on in their journey to free his sweet and wonderful Jack so that they could be together and with his family without fear of Death sweeping over them all.

Hansel paled when he heard the calling of a crow. The air was split with screams as the Gnomes scurried about, flinging their hands over their heads. "ENOUGH, YOU COWARDS!" one little man who wore a taller hat than all the rest bellowed. "HE'S ONLY HERE BECAUSE OF BOB! BACK TO YOUR POSTS BEFORE HE FLAILS YOU!"

Bob had never actually flailed any of them, but the threat hung heavily in the air until the rest of the People had calmed down and resumed their guard duties. Hansel's skin still crawled as he gazed into Jack's eyes and prayed that this Bob really was the only reason why the crow had come calling in the middle of the night . . .

* * *

The tenderness that Martha held Lex with caused a huge lump to form in his throat. She smelled heavenly like a mixture of fresh baked bread and honey with a tinge of chocolate chip cookies! She made him miss his own Mother even more. He hugged her back just as gently.

His Father was an evil bastard that would crush Martha Kent if given the chance. He kicked himself for having brought the possibility of his Father's wrath upon the Kents. He couldn't just walk away from them. He wanted more of the feelings Martha invoked in him, and he desperately wanted Clark. His loins burned for want of Clark's touch.

He broke away from Martha and led her back to her bed so that she could sit while talking to them. Oh, if only she would not turn from him in hate and revulsion when she found out that he wanted her only son to be his mate, he silently prayed as he knelt by her feet while waiting for her to speak.

Martha knew that it was highly improper for a lady to have a young man who was not her family in the sanctuary of her bedroom, especially when she was married, but Lex, in her eyes, was a child and therefore there could be no harm made by his presence in her bedroom. She patted the bed beside by her. "Sit down, boys, and tell me what's on your mind, Clark."

Clark sat hesitantly upon the foot of the bed and looked up at his mother with big, worried eyes. "I . . . I just want to know how I was born."

Martha sighed and glanced at Lex. Would he think her crazy? It didn't matter. This was her home and her son who so desperately needed the answers only she would give him. Jonathan thought the boy shouldn't know so that he could have a chance at a normal life, but Martha had always known that this time would eventually come. She was only surprised that Clark had taken so long to ask. It was obvious to her that he trusted Lex and that Lex cared deeply for Clark, so she trusted the boy as well. She sighed. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

She reached out and laid a gentle hand on Clark's knee. Gazing into her son's eyes, she told him, "I don't know, my darling baby boy, because we found you in a corn field."

Clark's mouth fell wide open.

Lex's mouth fell open as well. So this confirmed it... Clark was a changeling! Lex had sat down on the floor in front of Martha. He quickly closed his mouth and waited for Clark to say something.

* * *

Kurt bravely stared Sinister down, his long, pointed, blue tail whipping wickedly through the night air behind him. He finally found the courage to answer him. "How can you be my Father?" Kurt's voice quivered, "N-No Father would ever treat his son ze way you have me! Ze truth is not in you! I stand by mein freunds! If you're my Father, then set us free!"

"Very well," Sinister said with a cold smile as he withdrew his hand. He shook his head slowly and sadly. "Your mother was just as determined to be free." Snickers ran through the group. "She fell to her death whether than stay with me when all I ever wanted to do was to protect you and give you the life of a star." His eyes met Kurt's, but there was only coldness in his dark orbs. "In another life, you wanted to be a star."

"I believe that you killed mein Mother! I don't believe zat you're my Father! I never vanted to be a star, maybe you did and never got that wish, but I have never vanted to be seen, only to hide. You say you're my Father...prove it! If you are, let us go free!"

Sinister studied his son calmly. There was no fury to be seen in his face, heard in his words, or felt in his presence. There was only calmness and the coldness of death. "Very well," he said, his thin lips curving into a smile. "You have served your purposes. I have all that I could ever need from you. I release you."

He turned his back to them as the small group of escapees watched him with apprehension. They all knew that freedom could not come so easily. Sinister would never walk away, and yet that was exactly what he was doing.

Piotr was proud of Kurt, but he knew that the danger had just begun. Sinister never released any one. A new danger was about to be ripe and upon them, but what would it be? What would Sinister do now?

* * *

Harry had reawakened after Bob had left him and had been unable to fall back asleep, so he was sitting up in bed and reading a new book he had recently uncovered in the ruins of a nearby deserted city. He wished Bob had returned sooner. He stifled a yawn and put the book down on the side of the bed. If Bob had been in the bed with him, Dresden would now be asleep instead of trying to stay awake until Bob returned. He felt a shift in the air and called out, "Is that you, Bob?"

"Yes, sweetheart, and you're supposed to be in bed." Bob looked down at him and corrected himself slightly, "As in actually using the bed to sleep." His dark eyes shone with his mournful remorse as he commented softly, "You know I'd lay there and hold you while you slept if I could."

Harry sighed, "How I wish that you could! I miss your arms terribly! This book is not at all interesting. I thought it was a new spell book, but it's a romance. Where have you been? Come sit with me, and maybe I can fall back asleep and dream of us..."

Bob smiled sadly and passed his hand through the air directly in front of Harry's forehead. "Ah, if only I could, my love, but we've intruders who must be dealt with accordingly. They came through the waterfall when I was meditating," he continued, his thin lips pulling down into a seductive pout, "and completely destroyed my concentration." He paused before adding, "Oh, and did I mention that they're as uncouthly naked as I am trapped incorporeal?"

"Don't remind me," Harry sighed. "Gods how I wish it were otherwise! How I long to feel you in my arms one more time, your lips pressed to mine, our steel matching blade for blade!" A lone tear trailed down his very sad face.

He suddenly brightened. "But the Master has returned at long last. All will be righted! Have Rodney put the prisoners in the hold and keep them there until morning when they will be brought before his Majesty for sentencing. Then return to me and we shall talk of old times and begin to plan for Salem's welcome home party. Hurry, my love!"

Bob stared at his beloved in shock. He had not seen Harry this happy since . . . well, since the last time they had made love which had happened well over a century ago. His eyes cast a downward glance at what little was left of his manhood that still ached with a burning need for his lover's touch. It had indeed been oh so wearily long ago . . .

But Salem was back now, and Salem had always solved all his problems before the bloody Council had intervened in the only plan that would ever truly save the world. Yet he was a cat! Could he really do much more than Bob himself could as a ghost? "You think . . . " Bob cautiously raised his eyes to Harry's beautiful, dark orbs. "You think he could fix me?" he asked, his voice wavering as a breeze flittered through the room, stirring the curtains, bedclothes, the pages of the book Dresden had found, the candle's flame, and Harry's hair.

Bob's eyes widened. A small smile touched his cold lips. His eyes narrowed on Harry's ebony locks, and he concentrated. The breeze raked through his hair, and a smile burst upon Bob's face.

Yes, Harry believed whole-heartedly that Salem could and would fix their problems. He closed his eyes and smiled as he imagined Bob's fingers caressing his heated skin and playing with his hair. He gathered his courage, hope, and belief in their wonderful leader to him as he asked softly, "Bob, . . . are you . . . touching me or is my mind playing tricks on me?"

"No," Bob whispered, his voice barely audible, "and yes . . . "

"Salem will help us! I know he will. Believe it, and it will be so!" How he longed for Bob to truly be able to touch him; just one night would be pure heaven! They would make love all night long! It had been over a hundred years that his love had been trapped, and they were desperate for each other! He could hardly bare the thought of one more unfulfilled night, but tomorrow... His mind raced with passionate thoughts of what he and Bob would do to each other...

* * *

Puss had never seen his old friend look as he did now. Hatter's skin was an ashen, pale shade of pure white. His hair, which had turned to a bright red, curled up and away from his head, which apparently had lost its fragile control as he continued to speak gibberish. Hatter was slowly breaking their friendly dragon's foot, and yet tears ran down his cheeks as he twisted her leathery foot and made her scream.

Puss knew already what the problem was, and with a hiss, he turned his attention to the Piper, who was looking around to see who had shouted at Hatter but could not see him as long as Puss kept the magic shoes of invisibility on his paws. Dragon's tail struck the ground, and another set of tremors passed through it. The Piper stumbled, and Puss ran at him. He did not release his yowl until his sword was already coming down on top of the pipe.

The Piper screamed as an invisible force sliced his pipe apart even as he held it in his very mouth. When he opened his mouth to scream, the remainder of the pipe fell . . . and was caught up into the air. Puss, clutching both pieces of the pipe in one hand and wielding his sword in his other hand, flew away from the Piper and toward Hatter.

"PIPE, COME BACK HERE!" Piper demanded even as Hatter stopped torturing Dragon, shook his head in a meager effort to clear his bedazzled thoughts, and looked slowly at the Piper. Hatter's eyes were crazed, but he yelped in gibberish Scottish as an invisible arm touched his shoulder.

A smile was spread over Puss' handsome, furry face when he stepped out of the magical shoes. He twirled the two pieces of the Piper's pipe that he had caught as he glowered at him. Hatter looked at Puss in perplexion, then quickly turned his attention to Dragon who was sobbing. He caught her foot and began kissing it all over while murmuring nonsensical apologies in his new, at least to Puss and Dragon, Scottish accent.

"Remember me?" Puss huskily asked the Piper.

"Should I?"

"Si, senor. You left my family without jobs when you moved all the mice out of Hamlin, and when we tried to tell the humans what you were really about, they refused to believe us and you chased us out. You made us dance all the way out of Hamlin. You made us dance until our paws bled, and even my poor Grandmawmaw, as brave and valiant a soul as was hers, begged and pleaded with you to let us go. It wasn't for herself that my Grandmawmaw was so concerned but for us kittens. You, senor, just laughed!" Hatred shone in Puss' emerald eyes.

"I remember that," the Piper commented with a cold smirk. "Poor, little kitties! You were so hungry with no rats to feed off of and so miserable when the foolish humans wouldn't listen to you!" He laughed then. "It was a sight to see," he announced, "all you cats dancing to your deaths in the ocean!"

"Only we didn't die," Puss told him, his voice low and lethal. He wanted to chop this man up into tiny little pieces and feed him to the Bandersnatch, but he couldn't risk letting go of the pipe or the magical shoes and Hatter was clearly in no shape to possess either.

* * *

Rahne fought to keep from trembling as the child in her arms was doing. She could not let Falisha know that she was afraid for her fear would only add to that of the child's. She held her closely and prayed for a miracle that she did not believe would come. She had once believed in God as strongly as Kurt did, but that was before the very woman who had adopted her and taught her to praise the Lord had sold her to Sinister.

Now the only help she believed in came from her own doing and that of her friends. They had done everything they could tonight, but it would not be enough. She thought of Hank and Prue, two new friends that she would not have thought to meet for years now, two new friends whose friendliness, helpfulness, and bravado would surely get them killed as she and her friends died.

"You can't be serious!" Shego exclaimed. Her mouth was open to say more, but she fell abruptly silent when Sinister's dark eyes met hers. The mere look sent chills shooting through the guard, and for one scant moment, she thought he would take his anger out on her and kill her before she could take another breath.

"My son asked for freedom from me," Sinister spoke. "He said nothing about my circus." He vanished even as his people shouted happily.

"The Russian's mine," Shego announced. "I'll enjoy breaking him."

"Mrow," Catra purred. "I want the kitty cat."

A man in their group rolled his eyes. "Of course, Catra. You always want the cat." She hissed and scratched him.

Kurt looked at the others in his small group. "Ve vill fight; Prue has given us that chance!" In a softer whisper, he said, "Rahne, take ze children and leave as Prue did. Do not look back; flee this place." Kurt immediately bamfed straight into Catra's line of view, blocking her from the children, praying that Rahne got safely away, and using his tail as a whip to try to get Catra's whip...

* * *

Jack gave Hansel another of his smiles, trying to convey his love. "It has not come for us;" he whispered, "our time is not yet. It is never a good thing to see one of those messengers." He'd have liked to been able to free them, but even if he did, there was nowhere they could go that they would not be found... Better to meet this Dresden and hopefully convince him of their innocence. "Maybe he came from Bob to keep an eye on all of us!"

"Perhaps," Hansel replied, "but if he did, love, we'd best watch him even more closely." He shivered again as he felt the crow still hovering nearby. "Those birds are evil!"

"Death birds," Jack exclaimed, "known to hang out with the Devil! Maybe Bob is from him?" He moved as close to Hansel as he could. "I'll protect you, my heart."

Hansel nodded though he wondered fearfully who would protect them in truth if Bob was indeed pure evil. His sister had almost always come sweeping to his rescue whenever he'd been in dire trouble, but she didn't even know that he was gone this time and wouldn't know until the next day. Would they live to see another sunrise? Hansel wondered. He knew neither Jack nor he were much in the way of fighting, but they would do their best to protect each other.

Hansel's saddened, blue eyes turned to Tonto. Jack and he might die, but these people should have no reason to force his best friend to stay in this mess. He whickered. Tonto whinnied sharply back in return, his ears flattening against his head. Hansel whinnied, feeling the eyes of all the surrounding little people upon him. Tonto whinnied, tossed his head, and slapped his hooves down hard upon the ground. Hansel spread his chained hands open in a gesture of defeat; gazed pleadingly into Tonto's big, brown eyes; and whinnied again. Still the pinto horse staunchly refused his brother.

Jack smiled at his love's arguing with Tonto and wished that he could understand what Hansel was telling him. He had a good idea that Hansel was trying to send him away and that Tonto was refusing strenuously.

Hansel sighed, and then the answer came to him. He forced down the smile of relief that threatened to bubble upon his lips. Still gazing into Tonto's eyes, he whickered several times before releasing a long, low whinny. Tonto bucked; hit the little people nearest to him with his hooves, head, tail, and mane; and ran. Hansel sighed. At least he would be safe.

Jack's suspicions were confirmed when Tonto ran away. If they lived through this mess, he wanted Hansel to teach him how to talk to a horse. He wanted his own horse, so that he could have a close friendship with one. He found that he was surprisingly jealous of Tonto! "He'll be alright," he spoke hopefully.

Their strange captors were very excited about the "horse man", and one of them ran in the direction that Bob had taken, muttering under his breath that Dresden must know!

Jack hoped that Dresden would give him a chance to speak and defend themselves.

* * *

"So what does it mean?" Clark finally asked his mother.

Martha shook her head, her red hair falling about her slender shoulders in soft waves. "We don't know, son," she told him, gently touching his face. "But whatever it means, your father and I could never love you any less." She was surprised that Lex had not spoken and glanced down at him, wondering if he now thought she was crazy and was perhaps even rethinking his loyalty to Clark, a loyalty she could only presume came from her son saving the boy's life.

Lex looked deep into Martha's eyes. Then he looked at Clark and realized that Clark didn't know how to ask the questions he needed the answers to, so he decided to ask them. "Was Clark alone when you found him? How old was he? Did he have any clothes on? When did you notice that he was special?"

Martha smiled gently. "We knew immediately that he was special, Lex. It's not every day you find a naked baby in a cornfield! God had blessed us, answered our prayers, and given us a child of our very own!" She lovingly caressed Clark's face. "And whether you come from Heaven or somewhere out there," she told him fervently, "you'll always be our baby, and we'll always love you."

"Mom," Clark began, swallowing the lump in his throat, "there's something you should know . . . "

"You can tell me anything, Clark."

"I'm different."

"Baby, I already know you're different."

He shook his head. "You don't know how different," he told her. Would she believe him if he told her, or would he have to show her?

"Then tell me," Martha said quietly, gazing at her son in wonder.

She was his mother; he would believe her. "I have powers."

She looked at him questioningly, her green eyes narrowing slightly. "What kind of powers?"

"I can fly. I'm really, really strong, and I can see through things."

Martha instinctively clutched at her nightgown.

Lex waited for Clark to blurt out their new relationship, but he kept it quiet. He might not ever be able to tell her, but Lex figured that if they did, she would take it with no problem. His Clark was indeed special. Lex's heart swelled with pride as he gazed into Clark's baby blue eyes. He reached out, taking Clark's hand...

Clark squeezed Lex's hand, and in that simple gesture, his fear showed through to him. He loved his mother and had always trusted her before but couldn't help being afraid that she would turn from him when she discovered just how much of a monster he was. "I've figured out how to control that one, Mom, mostly." He forced a grin, and Martha slowly let go of her nightgown.

"What else can you do?" she asked in wonder.

His teeth showed in his grin as he remembered the day he had ran across the desert until he had come across a herd of wild horses and had then raced them. "I can outrun the mustangs!"

Martha shook her head slowly in amazement and continued to gaze at her son. She had always feared this day would come, but yet the truths he was telling her still dazzled her mind!

"And," Lex told her proudly, "he saved me from falling to my death! He was afraid to tell you of this because he fears he is a monster, but I know better. He is my Knight in shining armor! He is my superman, and he is a changeling sent to help those who can't help themselves." His face shone with the love he could not keep hidden...

Martha mistook Lex's admiration of Clark as simple devotion for saving his life, but she had heard little beyond the fact that her baby boy thought he was a monster! "Oh, Clark!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and hugging him close. "You're not a monster, baby! You could never be a monster!"

Clark relished the feel of his mother's arms around him, and his heart sang from relief and joy as she reassured him. He hugged her tightly in return.

"Your Father and I always feared you would have powers."

Clark tensed. "Feared?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Martha explained, squeezing him even harder. "We were afraid you'd have this problem of thinking you were a monster because of your differences, but you could never be a monster!"

Relief and happiness washed through Clark, and he let his eyes close as he felt peace shine in his soul for the first time in years. His parents had known he was different and had even suspected that he would have powers, and they neither feared nor hated him because of them! They still loved him! They would always love him! He was so happy that he began to rise off of the bed, taking his mother with him . . .

Lex slipped out of the room and over to the guest room, allowing Martha and Clark some time alone. He kicked off his boots and lay down on the bed, missing his mother even more. He knew Lionel had killed her. He couldn't prove it now, but one day he would. He couldn't remember when he had slept last. His eyes grew heavy, and though he fought it, he fell asleep to dream of Clark...

* * *

Hoggle looked up from his supper and smiled at his beautiful wife, Imogene. "Dinner's delicious, sweetheart!" His hand reached out and touched hers reassuringly as the roars shook their small house. "Nothing to fear, dear. Only some one's pissed off our King; heads'll roll by mornin'. He's taken dragon form, so it's something serious. He ain't roared for me yet. I hope he don't."

He grinned mischievously at her and wriggled his eyebrows. She laughed at him before rushing into his arms and kissing him passionately. Hoggle sighed against her mouth. His love had finally given him enough courage to keep from shooting into the nearest hole and quivering like a leaf whenever Jareth took off, and he had never known such happiness before Jareth, who had at last fallen in love himself, had allowed him to take his bride.

Didymus lifted his head from Ludo's furry shoulder as Jareth passed overhead. "The King does not call us, my brother, yet he is in great haste in his dragon form. Should we follow him?"

One big paw reached out and pulled Didymus back to his shoulder. "Ludo sleep..." he muttered as he returned to slumber.

Didymus wondered who had infuriated Jareth and was glad it was not them. "You must awaken, Sir Ludo. Our King may have need of us!" He sighed as Ludo only resumed snoring, his great growls and roars pulling the tops of the very trees in their direction. Didymus sighed. "Oh, very well. I shall not leave your side, my brother, unless, of course, the King needs me for I am a very brave and stalwart Knight and must always do whatever he asks of me . . . " He yipped sharply as Ludo rolled over, pulled him off of his shoulder, covered his mouth with a massive paw, and tucked him into his side.

Worm peeked out of his doorway and called to his King, knowing Jareth could hear him. "Good luck, my Lord!"

Jareth grinned as he heard Worm's tiny voice inside his head. He was glad that he and others of his friends and subjects were safe for the night. The smile vanished as quickly as it had come, however, as he thought of those who he would never see alive again. Woe be to the ones who had killed his Fieries! He would taste their blood before dawn!

He could see the area where one lone man stood guard over the two injured people. He began to slow and prepare for descent... He circled once taking in the carnage of his people, his heart crying out for utter destruction...

Delvira's black eyes seemed almost to glow with the fury building in her dark heart. Her pale hands itched to ignite a fire of her own to consume the Fieries' murderer, but she knew she should let Jareth make the first move. They were, after all, his people before they were her own. Her black lips parted to speak, but she stopped and peered more closely at the scene unfolding below. More Fieries were now slinking out of the woods, and for the first time since Delvira had made the acquaintance of their people, they were somber. She watched in puzzlement as they began to gather around the smaller of the two people and realized that the person was burned so badly that she could not even tell if they had been male or female.

Jareth was puzzled at the reaction the Fieries were taking as they surrounded the smaller figure as though to protect her. *Why are they doing that?* he asked his beloved in her mind. *I've never seen them trying to protect any one other than their children.* As his feet touched the earth, he changed to his man form, grabbed Delivra in mid-air, and let her slide down his body slowly to her feet.

* * *

Everything had happened so fast that Will's head now hurt from the speed and confusion of it all. The bright light that had shone out of the strange door/tree had nearly blinded him, but when he'd put his arm over his eyes to block out some of the brightness, he had seen movement. Then he had recognized the black ship that was sailing straight toward him and the cat he held. He had squealed in delight and ran forward only to have the very earth snatched out from underneath his booted feet.

Will had landed hard upon a deck and was barely getting to his feet when Pirates swarmed him on all sides. Some were familiar faces, but most he had never seen before in his life. Still, those he recognized were supposed to be dead. "Daddy?" he called hopefully as he peered at the ugly faces from wide, brown eyes.

Then he heard movement behind him and whirled around to find a man in a Captain's hat falling toward him. The man's arms and legs flailed as he tried to catch himself by grabbing the riggings, but still he came down. "That's nae me Daddy," was Will's first thought. "An' where'd th' kitty go?" He heard sniggering from somewhere behind him, turned, and shouted at the Pirate he didn't know. "YE WOULDN'T LAUGH AT ME IF'N ME DADDY WERE HERE!"

His tongue had slipped into the accent he had grown up with his entire life, but Will didn't realize that anything was strange about him. From talking, vanishing cats, men in hats, and doorways in trees to his father's ship full of Pirates who were either supposed to be dead or who he didn't know, it was the world around Will that had gone completely weird. He didn't know where his daddy was, but he knew he should be here somewhere. "DADDY?" he called again just before something touched him.

He jumped, whirled around once more, and glared at the man in the Captain's hat. "Ye're nae me Daddy!" he announced, his hands balling into fists. "Where's me Daddy, an' who are ye?" The strange but funny man was still reaching for him as he swung like a monkey, upside down in the ropes. Will laughed. "Whoever ye are," he announced, "ye're funny, but where's me Daddy an' how come ye got a Capt'n hat?"

He felt another hand touch his, jumped away, and whirled to face the new person who'd dared to touch him. A grin burst over his handsome face at the sight of the loyal Mister Gibbs, his daddy's best friend. "MISTER GIBBS!" he cried and rushed into his arms. "Who are all these people? Where's me Daddy? What happened?"

Tears began to roll down his face. "I thought ye were dead! I thought ye were all dead! I saw ye die! Where's me Daddy? Huh? Huh? Where is he? I wanna see him!" He wailed these plaintive words all in one breath before beginning to cry openly. He knew his daddy said big Pirates didn't cry, but he'd understand when he found out he was supposed to be dead!

* * *

Puss growled as he felt something scurry beside the shoes. His tail whisked out and hit the hobgoblin in the face. Then, without ever taking his eyes off of the Piper, Puss sheathed his sword and snatched the little man up by the collar of the tunic he wore. Puss' nose wrinkled at the smell of rotten flesh that the tunic was made from, but still he did not look at the hobgoblin.

"You and your friends have a choice," he growled, his tail whisking through the air with all the graceful ferocity he used when wielding his sword. "Return to us all that you have stolen or die."

"We - We can't! Sh-She'll kill us!"

"We'll kill you," Puss told the hobgoblin, his green eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"Th-That's what he said!" The hobgoblin pointed a shaking, green finger at Hatter.

Hatter cocked his head as he studied the hobgoblin and finally walked away from Dragon's bleeding foot. "So I did," he mused. The three words were then followed by more gibberish. Hatter's voice grew with each word until he was right on top of the hobgoblin.

Puss released the hobgoblin. Hatter caught him before he could hit the ground and tore his head clean off of his tiny shoulders. "Who wants more?" he asked with a twirl of his head and a broad grin. His eyes peered at the remaining hobgoblins, who all immediately dropped what they were carrying and fled while screaming at the top of their lungs.

* * *

Salem had taught him to believe all that time ago, Bob remembered, and his legend was such that Harry's little boy, who had grown up hearing the tales of the great Salem Saberhagen and had transformed into the most marvelous man he'd ever known, a man who'd completely won over his blackened heart, believed in his power and capabilities without a question or a single doubt in his mind or heart! Had he really grown so cynical that he no longer believed in Salem, no longer believed in the friend who had saved his life countless times; in the leader who had led him and hundreds of other valiant souls through thousands of battles until they had been deceived by two of their own and their hopes, lives, and entire world destroyed by their betrayal; in the Wizard who had first taught him to master his own magic; in the man who had always believed in him and taught him to believe both in himself and in the endless possibilities the world had to offer?

Like the possibility of using his emotional control over the air currents to touch his love? Bob brought the breeze down to flutter against Harry's face and touched him with it upon his cheek where he longed for his hand to be able to caress. No, it was possible, he thought. If he could touch the man he loved, anything was possible. Everything was possible!

Tears sparkled in Bob's ghostly eyes. "I love you," he whispered chokingly. The mere hint of hope that Salem could fix everything for them had already given him a new ability he'd not thought of before. Salem would fix everything! He would be able to make love to Harry again! He might never live again, but he would be whole!

"I love you, my sweet." Harry touched his own cheek where he could have sworn, only seconds before, that he had felt Bob's fingers caress him. He reached out to Bob and tried yet again to touch him, but his hand went through Bob's form immediately and Harry snatched it back as though he had been burnt.

"Oh, Bob!" He wailed his name in anguish, wanting somehow to just touch him and feel skin and not vapor... "Your touch! I felt it, but my hand still just falls through you! I can't bear it! If only Salem would fix us so we can feel each other! Just to be able to feel your skin...taste your lips...!" Soon, he promised himself, and then, to Bob, he spoke again, "Salem will fix everything, but especially us first..."

Bob smiled reassuringly at his love. "We will find a way, my darling, and I'm sure you're right. Salem will help us. But for tonight, at least, I have at last found a way to touch you." The wind played gently over Harry's face - his cheeks, his forehead, his eyebrows, his nose, and his ears - before finally running softly over his lips. "I only wish," Bob told him with unshed tears shining in his dark eyes, "that I could truly feel you and lay my hands upon you, my love . . . "

Harry dashed tears from his own eyes and then blew a kiss at Bob. "One day, maybe even tomorrow, we will walk in the light of day, holding hands, and then we will sleep in each other's arms every night. Take care of the prisoners for tonight and return to me soon. I could get used to the caress of your winds. Maybe they could even..." Harry blushed at the thought of Bob's winds touching him on his overheated steel...

"Take care of this . . . " Bob ran his tongue over his top lip. " . . . considerably welcoming package?" He dropped his hands, and the breeze fell with them. It washed over Harry's body before coming to rest, as Bob again put his hands out, upon his rising member. Bob's need filled him so intensely that he trembled as he carefully drew his fingers through the air and brought the breeze rushing over Harry's sword. His hands shook as he fought to maintain control and not let loose his overwhelming need, but then as he moaned, the winds snapped. "Damn!" he cried as he lost them.

The winds whipped around the room and then exploded back out the door and window from whence it had come. It knocked into the Gnomes and captors alike with such force that it threw them all to the ground. "Ow!" Hansel complained amongst all the yelling. He turned immediately to see how his love had fared with the sudden impact even as he began to hear the Gnomes whispering urgently about how Bob was even angrier now. Hansel grimaced. "That _can't_ be good . . . "

Jack had crept even closer but had still not been able to keep Hansel from falling to the ground. He reached out and touched his beloved's face. "Courage, sweet; in time, all things will come right. Maybe Bob isn't as angry as he seems! Maybe he's just rough and likes to show off to scare people." At least Jack hoped that most of it was for show, though all those gathered doubted his words. Bob was fierce, and none wanted to be on his bad side.

Hansel gazed into his love's dark, enchanting eyes and knew that he was at least partially right. He may well be wrong about Bob, but he was right in believing that everything would eventually right. Hansel had finally been blessed with the true love of his life, and he knew that, no matter what happened, they would eventually be granted their chance to live together happily. "I love you," he whispered just before the door was thrown open.

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: If you are enjoying this story, or have enjoyed any of our other writings, we hope you'll consider joining our friends and us at a brand new fan fic/art site we're creating called Ficcers Unite. We welcome all fandoms, pairings (slash and het), and even no pairings at all, and we'll also be RPing a world where Disney and Marvel comes together in one universe. Come on over and check us out at today!


	31. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

Harry had been lost to the wind and Bob, and as Bob had moaned, Harry had been moaning as well. His screams of passion rent the air as he came. Bob lost the wind, and it left the room, leaving Harry to wonder why Bob had not tried that before as he slowly floated back to their realities...

Bob stared in desperate longing at the white froth brimming upon his lover's steed. He groaned, moaned, and turned around. Though he ached to go forward and wrap his entire being around his love, he knew it was impossible - at least for now. His voice sounded strangled as he managed to gasp out, "I shall go deal with those . . . inane . . . intruders . . . " Though he did not have to breathe as he was only a ghost, it was a habit that Bob still tended to possess, and now his breathing was every bit as labored as Harry's. He glided through the door with a completely dazed look upon his whispery face.

He did not even blink when he came upon the Gnomes and the captors where the fleeting wind had knocked them down onto the ground. "Put the prisoners . . . for the night . . . into the dungeon " he moaned, taking no notice of the predicament the Gnomes and humans were in nor even that the horse was now gone.

"Sir," one of the Gnomes spoke up quickly, "there's something that you should know!" He was the one who had left to tell Dresden about the man who could talk to his horse but had changed his mind upon hearing both Dresden's and Bob's moans and ran back outside.

"Whatever it is . . . " Bob spoke dismissively, waving a hand through the air, " . . . can wait . . . until . . . tomorrow . . . Lock them in there . . . Our Liege will deal with them . . . on the . . . morrow . . . " He turned, ignoring the Gnomes' and men's protests alike, and drifted back into the house with a sigh that trailed behind him.

Hansel looked quizzically at Jack. "What the heck just happened?" He loved being able to talk to the horses, but for the first time, he wondered if perhaps he should have tried harder to learn to communicate more directly with the spirits. His adopted father had tried to teach him, but Hansel had never been able to meditate long or deeply enough.

The Gnomes pushed and prodded at Jack and Hansel until they reached the back side of the house where a trap door was opened and they were pushed roughly inside. As they began to fall, not knowing how far the drop, Jack, determined to break his love's fall, managed to get under Hansel. The trap door was slammed shut, then locked and two guards were placed to guard the prisoners. After what seemed like mere seconds, their bodies hit the floor so hard that Jack was knocked unconscious and Hansel was left alone to hear the chitterings of what seemed to be a thousand starving mice...

Hansel's blue eyes peered around the dungeon, but he could see nothing but inky black darkness. He shivered at the sounds of the mice scrabbling somewhere nearby and wished, for a second time, that he had taken the time, effort, and patience to learn more than just horse language. He wondered if he had done the right thing by sending Tonto away, but then he pushed the thought aside. Tonto was free, the Hunter had no reason to go after him, and he would find Faith and be safe in her companionship.

And what if he did bring her after him? He and Jack would be freed, but then she would be in danger. When had their lives not been full of danger? Hansel wondered. Even when he had ceased adventuring with his beloved sister and settled down with Derek, every day had still been fraught with danger for he'd never known when Derek was going to go off on one of his tantrums that always resulted with him being hurt. In the darkness, Hansel gingerly touched his nose and flinched at the memories.

Then he pushed them aside. The past didn't matter. Only the future did, and it was bright with love as long as he had his sweet Gypsy Jack. Jack had somehow managed to fall beneath him, and he'd not made a sound since they'd fallen. "Jack? Sweetheart? Are you okay?" Hansel felt beneath him until he found his love's face, but still no response came as he ran his fingers over his face. He continued running his hands over his body, checking for injuries, and his heart caught when his searching fingers encountered something wet and sticky on the back of his hero's head. Hansel's heart hammered in his chest as he prayed it wasn't blood and began to shake him while calling his name louder and louder and praying he would awaken.

* * *

As Kurt's tail closed around Catra's whip, Catra yowled, jumped up, and slashed his tail with her claws. She kicked at him, her hind claws cutting his chest.

Piotr charged as Shego threw another energy blast. He turned swiftly and took the blast in his metal back.

Fur covered Rahne's flesh, and she snatched Artie back up into her arms. The boy had wanted to be brave, known that Falisha was even more afraid than he was, and gotten down when she and the others had stopped to wait for Kurt and Piotr to catch up to them. Rahne looked through teary eyes at friends as she considered Kurt's words. She could protect the children. She could save them . . . while she let her friends die. Her instincts to protect her pack and emotions overwhelmed her, and Rahne threw back her head and howled.

A hand closed around her long hair and snatched her head back. "I always did like an animal in the bed," a man spoke into her ear before licking its inside. Rahne shivered in disgust and horror, but before she could react, Hank flipped back to his feet and sliced the man in the back with his toenails.

"Enough of this child's play," Spiral spoke in disgust. She was a blur of white and silver as she spun forward, her booted feet not even touching the ground.

"Sinister said we could have fun!" Shego protested.

"He said no such thing, Shego. He only meant for us to take care of the problem as I am doing."

Piotr moved forward to stop her, but before he could touch her, three shots rang out. The bullets bounced off of Spiral's spinning form but killed three others in her group.

"MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" Bobby Drake yelled to which Vin looked at him, stunned. He had expected the man to be angry when he made his presence known, but he had not expected him to have a death wish.

"You go down there, you're gonna get yourself killed!"

"I DON'T CARE! I HEARD HANK SCREAM!"

Vin didn't know who Hank was, but it was clear to the Texan that Bobby loved him, whoever he was, with all his heart. Vin's mouth fell open as ice shot out of Bobby's hands. He slid downwards on the bridge of ice, his heart thundering in his ears and his insides shaking. He knew that the pain-filled screamed he heard moments ago could have belonged to no one other than the man he loved, but none of the people below looked even remotely like his Hank. As he descended, he screamed out for his love. "HANK!"

A blue monster covered from head to toe looked up. His fangs sparkled in the moonlight as his mouth opened. Tears shimmered in his yellow eyes, and Bobby's heart jumped. Could it be? Was it possible? Those wonderful, eyes . . . They looked just like his Hank's baby blues except for the color! But no, Hank couldn't be a monster . . . Yet he also could not be alive, and Bobby knew he had been hearing his voice almost all night long.

"Bobby?" Hank breathed . . . and then he screamed as Spiral's swords cut into his side, Rahne's back as she turned swiftly to cover the children with her own body, and Kurt's tail. Blood flew, and Bobby screamed.

Vin shot at Spiral again, but once more his bullets bounced off of the strange woman. He yelled when one of those bullets lodged itself in Rahne's leg, and she crumpled to the ground with a howl. He didn't know who the woman was and didn't understand why a Werewolf would be protecting children that clearly were not wolfish at all, but he knew that she was a good woman. He threw his gun away from him in disgust as he longed for his man to be there with him. If Chris was there, he'd know what to do. He'd save them all, but he wasn't and Vin feared he had just killed one of the very people he'd been trying to save.

* * *

Jack finally got his foot free from the rigging and managed to land standing upright so close to Will that he could reach out and touch him, but he didn't. Something was dreadfully wrong with his Will. Damn Them to Hell! he wanted to scream out loud; they had returned Will to him but with a damaged mind! It didn't matter, Jack vowed, for he would take care of Will. At least he had his wonderful love back and alive!

Jack glared at his men and roared at them to get off of Will. "THIS ONE IS MINE," he told them. "GET YE BACK TAE YER QUARTERS." The men scurried to obey, hoping not to incite Jack's ire.

Gibbs pulled Will off the floor and closer into his arms, giving him a welcoming squeeze. What was wrong with Will? He was asking for his Father and crying about him being dead. Unfortunately, Bootstrap had been on Davy Jones' ship the last time any of them had seen of him, and he had been dead a long time.

Jack looked into Will's eyes and saw the shock therein. He saw no sign of recognition, and his heart trembled. They had taken Will's love away from him! Could he regain it? He flashed Will a gold tooth smile and said, "I am th' Captain o' th' Pearl! Come wit' me; ye'll be safe."

Gibbs released Will and then looked at Jack. "Be careful, Jack; all is not well with him!"

"Damn them. but I know that they are havin' a good laugh fer creatin' this unfortunate set of events. Fear not, Gibbs; I will care well for him for he is my life!"

"I know that, me son, but be forewarned: he knows ye not!"

Jack held out his hand to Will. "Come, my friend; ye need rest. Tomorrow we will go in search of yer Father!" He had no intentions of Will getting anywhere near that accursed ship for fear it would snatch him back.

Will pulled away from Jack and Gibbs both. He was now quivering like a leaf caught in a hurricane. "Ye're nae me Father!" he nearly shouted. "Ye're nae th' Capt'n o' th' Pearl! Me Da's th' Capt'n!" He turned big, pleading eyes upon Gibbs. "Have ye gone mad, Mister Gibbs? Ye knae me Da's th' Capt'n! What's all this . . . this craziness about?" He sobbed and snatched back when they tried to approach him. "Stay away from me! Ye're crazy!"

* * *

Harry was laying, relaxed, with a look on his face that spoke of the cat who had eaten not only the canary but the cream as well! Bob had been gone only a few minutes, and now he had returned. Harry looked expectantly at Bob before patting the bed next to him...

Bob floated onto the bed and frowned as he found himself more inside of the mattress than above it. He sighed as he looked up at Harry. His fingers arched, but he didn't try to touch him again yet. "At least we came closer tonight, my love . . . " he moaned.

Harry gazed into Bob's lovely eyes that seemed to gaze at him with new lights showing in them. "You're amazing, my sweet! How long have you been able to manipulate the wind? Why has it taken so long, and can you teach me so that I might be able to rock your world?"

A smile with warmth Bob rarely felt in his heart or any other part these days lit his handsome face as he gazed at his lover and was charmed by his exuberance. His fingers curled as he resisted the urge to try to run them through Harry's black hair; he still remembered well how soft it had always been to his touch. "I . . . I am not sure when I first noticed it," he admitted, pulling his legs up into a sitting position and hovering in the air with a thoughtful expression, "but the air somehow seems to be linked to my emotions. I've been whipping up some considerable breezes while angry for a while now, but only tonight did I think . . . that there might be a chance to use it . . . "

He gazed lovingly into Harry's dark orbs. "It was your belief in Salem that made me remember my own. At one time, Salem Saberhagen was the most powerful Warlock in all of existence. He could have truly righted the world, and he always had the answers I needed when I needed them. He never failed me." Bob's head hung slightly. "I may have failed him as I did not protect him well enough, but he never failed me."

He gave himself a small shake and lifted his head with a slight smile curving his thin, wispy lips. "Your belief that he would fix everything for us, Harry, renewed my hope. I felt more hope than I've felt in a long time, and . . . " He shrugged, a very mortal habit that he had still somehow managed to maintain. "I tried, and we got lucky." He moaned at the thought of what that turn of phrase implied. "If only we could really get lucky, my love! I so long to taste your sweet nectar again, my dearest heart; to run my fingers through your hair and over your body; to feel you thriving underneath me . . . " He moaned, and the wind whipped, whistling, back through the room.

Bob quirked an eyebrow at the wind. It was almost as though it were alive and enjoying what he had used it for before! "I wonder . . . ?" he mused, and then he shrugged again. "Oh well. It hardly matters." He turned a devilish grin upon Dresden. "Anything I can do to rise your steel is a good thing indeed, sweetheart!" He raised his hands into the air, and the wind rushed up and over Harry's body. Bob moaned once more at the memory of just how delicious that fine body tasted!

"But, Bob, my heart, you're not listening to me," Harry pouted. "I want to do you! Teach me to use the wind too! Concentrate and tell me, please, love, and then we can do each other..."

"Ah, darling," Bob crooned, his heart tearing at the pleading look upon Harry's handsome face and in his eyes. "If only I could," he said, curling his fingers through the air and bringing the wind to lightly caress his love's face, "but I fear that it is my unfortunate circumstance that grants me this usage of the wind. I never possessed it while still I lived."

"Morning will come soon, and the first thing I plan to do is throw myself on Salem's mercy and beg him to help us! If he demands payment, I will give him anything I possess. To be in your arms is all I want in life! If we cannot do this while I am alive, then I will end it. This is our last night of torment. I swear this!" He lay back on the bed and enjoyed Bob's sensual caresses...

The wind blew slowly and gently over Harry's body as Bob watched him with forlornness in his dark eyes. Harry's words echoed in his head. He would not have his love take his life when there was still so much for him to do, so much for which he was needed. It was their separation that pained Harry while all the rest of his life was happy. He could not and would not ask for his beloved to give up his world, and whereas he had been lucky and been granted the ability to linger with his soul mate as a ghost, he knew all too well that Harry might be stolen completely away from him.

Yet he also knew that trying to talk to his love about it now would prove fruitless. It was Salem he needed to discuss the matter with, Bob realized, Salem whose mercy he needed to seek, Salem who would not ask for anything he was not willing to give. All Bob had ever heard Salem ask any one for was something to help the cause of righting the world, and he would readily do whatever his Liege asked. Yes, the sad ghost realized, Salem was still his Master, his mentor, his Priest, and the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

Salem would fix this as he had everything else that had ever gone wrong in Bob's life until they had parted. He had to do so for Harry could not live without Bob, and whereas Bob understood and shared his misery, he would never ask for his love to give up a life where he would finally know happiness if only they could get around this one huge problem. Salem would fix everything, Bob told himself, believing in his Master again as he ran the winds over Harry's body.

* * *

Logan's eyes almost popped out of his head when the monstrous, scaly beast landed not more than ten feet away from him. His claws went - Snikt! Snikt! - out of their own accord. He moved to position himself between the monster and his man. Should he attack before the monster could? As he prepared to do so, he noticed two things. There was a woman on the back of the huge beast and that the beast was now changing into a man covered in leather and silk. A bold saucy male whose clothes were so tight that one claw would pop them open. He stalked forward to meet them.

Jareth had already taken in the scene from the air. He knew not who the bold, little man was and could care less. All he cared about the stranger was that he was between him and his prey. His beady eyes took on those of an owl as he calculated the distance between his prey and himself. With the speed of lightning, he changed into his snowy owl form, flew pass the startled man, and landed on the charred remains. Then stepping off what he took for a lifeless carcass, Jareth began to change back into his man form. It was as he was changing that the quick instincts and smell of the owl revealed to him that not only was the man alive but, amazingly enough, healing from the inside!

Logan took a chance and attacked the strange being from behind before he could finish his transformation back into man. A combination of white feathers, black leather, and yellow and black colors intermingled as screeches and yowls came from the two antagonists to resound throughout the forest. Neither would give an inch. Logan, determined to save Creed, fought against Jareth, who was just as determined to mete out the villain's just punishment. Blood ran like rivers down the stocky man's body and the Goblin King's half-man, half-owl body...

Delvira gazed at the battle as she waited to see, for certain, if her husband would need help. Despite his sensual appearance that would make those who did not know him better think that he was only a King of luxury, Delvira knew well of his fierce and deadly nature that lay just behind whatever facade he chose to wear. This stranger, however, seemed to be able to keep his own against her beloved King of her heart, and her senses warned that he, as well as the man on the ground who had slaughtered their friends and subjects, were more than they appeared. Her pale hands were just beginning to curl with flames licking her palms when she felt a tiny tug on her dress.

Delvira's black eyes dropped to the feathery face that peered up at her. Unlike the Goblins, she had never found the Fieries ugly. Their big beaks were the only part of their bodies that threatened their appearance, but other than their mouths, they were just different. Their orange and white feathers were soft, and this one's eyes were as imploring, pleading, and heart-rending as any other innocent youngling's.

Delvira dropped her eyes and turned her attention to the Fieries while listening for Jareth's call. If he needed her, she'd fry the bastard who fought him, but otherwise she knew that he would prefer to mete out justice himself. The only thing that prevented her from hoping to be allowed to sling a fireball into the short, impudent man's back was that she didn't want her lover harmed and knew that he would only call her if he was failing. "Who's the girl?" Delvira asked softly.

"Friend," the Fiery who had dared to tug on her black, silk dress to get her attention answered first. She dropped her hand and eyes away from her Queen's.

"Sister," another said, looking forlornly at the body that was so charred that Delvira could not make out any details of it.

"Sister?" Delvira asked in surprise. "King Jareth and I were not aware that you had friends outside of our realm."

"Yes'm," a third spoke.

"She saved us," whispered a fourth.

Delvira placed a reassuring hand on the small, thin back of the first Fiery who had dared to tug on her dress. She looked up in growing surprise; she knew she was as lucky to not have been kicked off of the Queen as Hogwart would be to not be kicked from the King's boots any time he dared to touch him. "Can you save her?" the Fiery asked.

Delvira hesitated to answer, and her eyes trailed back to the fight waging on. Out of all the hundreds of spells she held at her disposal, Delvira knew no powerful healing spells, but she hoped Jareth would and trusted that her beloved husband would have the answers they needed.

"She's dying!" another Fiery wailed.

"That's enough," Delvira snapped. "We have need of our King." She sailed a fireball straight into Logan's back. Flames danced in her pupilless, black eyes as Delvira concentrated on the fire, keeping it solely upon the short man who dared to strike her husband. Jareth would feel the heat of fire but nothing more from the hungry flames that licked their enemy.

* * *

Jack hoped that he could lie well enough to make Will believe it to be the truth. "Will, yer Father is th' Captain o' a different ship. He made me th' Captain o' the Pearl. Th' ship he has now is much bigger. We can not find him in th' dark, but in th' mornin', we will go in search of him. He will be thrilled to find that ye are alive. We all feared ye tae be dead! Thank the Gods ye live! Where have ye been all this time?"

Will eyed the long-haired stranger suspiciously. "I don't knae ye," he told him, "so ye would nae be fearin' that I was dead." Keeping one eye on Jack, he turned his other imploringly to Gibbs. "Mister Gibbs, what's happenin'? Din't lie tae me. Ye never could before," he reminded him, "an' ye win't be able tae di it now."

And yet, somehow, for some reason he could not understand, Will ached to believe that what he was being told was the truth. Did it really matter, he asked himself, as long as his father was alive? But where was his father? What the stranger had said couldn't be the truth! His Daddy loved the Black Pearl, and if he had ever willingly given her up, it would have been to him or to Mister Gibbs, not some man he didn't even know! He glared defiantly at the man he'd heard Mister Gibbs call Jack.

Gibbs looked at Will. "Jack speaks truth in that yer Father made him Captain o' the Pearl." How could he reveal to this Will that Jack's first lover had been Will's own father? And that he, too, had been a cherished lover of Bootstrap's? This Will had been a child when lost and now was a child again; his mind might have blocked Jack from his memory. This Will probably might have been repulsed by seeing his Father with a male lover.

Had Jack changed so much that Will couldn't or wouldn't recognize him? Gibbs looked at Jack with questions in his eyes. Did Jack have the right words, the right memories to trigger Will's memories? He looked helpless and lovelorn. If Jack told Will that he had been with his Father, he'd never stand a chance to win him for himself.

Jack looked into Will's brown eyes and spoke, "I saved yer Father's life... I knew him well, an' he spoke of ye often, especially when he was in his cups. I grew tae know ye an' tae love ye as th' brother I never knew. It's true that if ye had nae fallen o'erboard an' disappeared, ye would now be Captain, but Gibbs did nae want tae be Captain. He does nae like tae give orders or discipline."

Will looked at Gibbs. "Since when?" he asked. "Ye always spanked me when I got inta trouble. Daddy wouldn't lay a hand on me, but ye would." And yet, ever so slowly, through the eyes of innocence beguiled, he was beginning to believe this wild tale . . .

Gibbs looked at Will and said, "I would do it all again if ye needed it. Will, ye are different. Ye were like me own son." The only one Bootstrap and I ever had... He would always miss Bootstrap, but he would still have a chance to raise his son. "Jack has always been a good boy... He made a good Captain... He does what he has tae do an' doesn't have a mean spirit. Ye were too young tae know about yer Father an' me... "

Jack didn't say anything, but he had sure been glad when Gibbs had become Bootstrap's lover. He liked and admired the man, but he had never loved him in that way. Bootstrap had taken Jack twice because he had had a pretty face, but Gibbs had taken his heart and his bed. Jack had been relegated to the ranks of the other Pirates where he had learned to fight and become a real Pirate.

Jack had never been in love with any one but Will and had never revealed to him that his father had taken him when he had barely been eleven. He didn't figure on ever telling him, because he didn't want to lose favor in Will's eyes. Now he waited patiently to be allowed to escort Will to their chamber, hoping that, once there, something would jog his memory. He would wait for Will forever if he needed that long, but he hoped that he wouldn't.

Will blinked owlishly at Gibbs. "Ye an' me Da?" he asked. "What di ye mean, Mister Gibbs?" This night was getting more and more confusing by the moment, and it was long past his bedtime! A loud yawn escaped him. He sheepishly covered his mouth with a hand.

Gibbs looked at Will as he answered his question. "Yer Father and I were lovers, but since he is on th' other ship an' I am here, we aren't any more." How would he take the truth?, Gibbs wondered.

"Lovers?" Will answered tiredly. "What's that mean?"

Jack looked at Will and said, "Come to the Captain's cabin. Ye will be safe there and can rest. I really am yer friend an' won't let any one hurt ye."

Will nodded sleepily. "Okay," he said. Everything was really strange, but it didn't matter as long as his father was alive. "I'll see Daddy in th' mornin', won't I?" he asked, looking at Mister Gibbs again. He knew he could trust whatever he told him. He nodded to Jack and swayed where he stood. "An' it's otay t' gi wit' him, right?" Even now his eyes were drifting shut . . .

* * *

"What shall we do with our friend?" Hatter asked, looking at Puss through insane eyes.

"I have the purrfect thing," Puss mused. Keeping one eye on Piper, he looked up with his other eye as Dragon gnashed her teeth together. "No, no, my pretty. You go after these hobgoblins." She hobbled away, the ground shaking with each movement she made. "You, too, Hatter. Go. Go have tea with the hobgoblins." Hatter grinned, rubbed his hands together in glee, and hurried off after the little monsters.

Puss' tail twitched as his eyes zeroed back in on the Piper. Hatred and fury burned in the tomcat's gaze. Almost every one quaked in their boots when they heard the name of Puss in Boots whispered in the dark. He had worked hard to procure the legend that surrounded his name, worked hard to protect a family of whom he had almost lost every one of before help had come to them in the form of magical mercats sent by their Goddess Bast, but now . . .

Now everything had come full circle, and the man who had done everything he could to destroy Puss' family would finally feel every bit of anguish, pain, heartbreak, and torment that he had put them through so many years ago. Puss' tail struck the air as his emerald eyes once more glowed. He raised the pipe to his mouth and, holding the broken pieces together in skilled paws, played, and the Piper danced . . .

* * *

Jack whispered huskily, "Easy, lover; I have a headache! Kiss me and make it go away!" He remembered the fall and asked Hansel, "Are you okay?"

Hansel's grin had lit his face the moment Jack had answered him. "Much better now that I hear your voice, sweetheart." His fingers wriggled, and he remembered the sticky substance upon them. He frowned down in concern toward the direction of where Jack's voice was coming to him through the darkness. "But are you sure you're okay, baby? How are you feeling?" he asked worriedly while trying to convince himself that the sticky substance could be something, anything really, other than blood and simultaneously trying to think of even one other thing that it really could be.

Jack sat up slowly, put his chained arms over Hansel's neck, and pulled him closer. "I wish that I could see your face, my love, and that you could see me. Besides getting the breath knocked out of me, I'm fine, but I'm wet down my back ... Maybe I bumped my head... "

Though it felt wonderful to have his love's arms around him again, Hansel was not at all convinced that he was fine. "But what," he queried, "is running down your back, sweetheart? I hope it's not blood; I don't want you to be hurt, my darling!"

Giving Hansel a gentle squeeze, Jack released him. Concentrating on the words for a spell he had heard his grandfather use, he began to chant them slowly at first, very unsure of himself, but as a tiny glow started forming and his confidence started to rise with each new word and flicker of his light, he increased the loudness of the chant. He hoped the glow would keep the rats away...

Hansel could hear the rats still scampering somewhere within their dungeon, but he was determined to keep the thoughts of the nasty critters at bay. Instead, the moment that Jack's light began to appear, Hansel started struggling to get to his feet. Something sloshed around his boots, and he looked down, with a nervous gulp, only to see dirty water. He frowned, then sighed with relief and gave Jack a tiny smile. It must have rained recently, and there was a hole that the water had slid down.

But where was the hole? he wondered. Could it be something upon which they could begin to build their escape? As his love continued working his spell, Hansel stood and began to make his way along the wall, feeling every inch in hope . . . It was too high to go out the way they had come, but if there was a hole big enough for them to crawl through, maybe they could still use it to their advantage . . .

Glittering eyes suddenly sparkled in the dark shadows at Hansel, and before he could react, a rat the size of a small dog leapt at him! Hansel screamed and fell backwards. His feet slipped out from under him, and he went down with the rat still coming straight at him. One hand covered his face, especially his nose, while his other arm moved to strike the animal.

Hansel's scream caused adrenaline to rush through Jack, who leapt to his feet so quickly that he caught the rat in mid air before it could strike Hansel. Snatching it up, for one inane moment, Jack wanted to bare his teeth at the thing and rip its throat out. Now where had that thought come from? he wondered even as he threw the rat back in the direction from whence it had leapt. Snarling and snapping followed its final squeals as the others tore it apart with their sharp and violent teeth.

Jack knew he had to get Hansel out of this rat-infested hole before the rest of the slimy things attacked. Pulling him gently to his feet, he spoke calmly to him, "Are you okay? Do not panic, my love, for they can sense our fear. If we do not find a way out of here, they will grow bold and soon attack us. Be brave, my heart! There is an opening here somewhere or the water, filthy as it is, could not have gained entrance.

Far above them, too far for them to be able to reach, was a tiny window. The light began to waver, and Jack began the chant again...

* * *

Despite the pain in Kurt's chest and the blood running down his body, he continued fighting with Catra. He kept praying to his God for deliverance when some one unexpected arrived to help them... Gunshots were fired! People fell to the ground, dead, and above all the pandemonium, one voice could be heard calling for Hank! Who was Hank?

Then he saw the blue beast mouth a name that could almost have been a prayer and saw the newcomers... including one who was young and handsome calling for Hank. Kurt considered the Beast's reaction, and he figured it out with a swish of his long, pointed tail. "GO TO HIM, BIG BLUE!" he yelled even as Spiral ripped into his tail, almost severing it in two. He wished for a sword for he was an expert swordsman and felt the emptiness of not having a true weapon...

Spiral was a whirlwind of blades as she attacked. Hank's eyes were still locked with Bobby's when he screamed as she flailed a chunk of muscle and fur from him.

"NO!" Bobby thundered. Hank was alive, and this bitch was not going to kill his man! Ice shot from Bobby's hands and covered Spiral and her swords, but he wasn't done. Fury radiated in him at what these strangers had done to his beloved, and the ice spread quickly from Spiral across the land, covering every one of those who had sided with the eight-armed monster who wore a human woman's face.

Tears were running down Bobby's face by the time he reached the ground from the hillside from whence he'd come. People were hurting and gasping all around him, and Vin had recovered from his shock and was running after him. Bobby did not notice any of them. He stared at his beloved Hank as tears poured down his face.

Hank had fallen to his furry knees, but when he raised his handsome face, it was the same face Bobby had always loved, only covered with blue fur that he knew would feel as soft to the touch as it looked. "I am sorry, my love . . . " Hank breathed.

At that time, Bobby didn't know that Hank had faked his death. He didn't know that he had given himself fur, fangs, and yellowed eyes. He only knew, and only cared, that the man he loved was alive but hurting. He fell onto his feet beside him, his ice bridge vanishing and sending Vin skittering off to another direction as he shouted, "WHOA!"

Bobby threw his arms around Hank, who half-leaned and half-fell into him as he embraced him. Their tears fell upon each other, Bobby's tears soaking Hank's fur and Hank's tears wetting his shirt and jacket. They clung to one another in the insanity of a world gone mad and wept for joy, and then their mouths found each other. Hunger, desperation, passion, and undying love all poured into that kiss that simultaneously burned and saved their souls, rekindled their hope and their will to live in their hearts, and gave their spirits wings.

Hank paused their kiss only long enough to cry against Bobby's lips, "I LOVE YOU!", and then he kissed him again. Nothing else in the world mattered in that moment to him, not the red-hot pain that seared through his body, not the facts that his son was gone and his adopted sister and her people lay dying, not the fear that Bobby would hate him when he told him what had happened, and not the thought that his beloved soul mate was better off without the monster he had transformed into which had misguided him for years. All that mattered was that he was with Bobby again and he still loved him!

There was a lot of things Bobby didn't understand. He didn't know how Hank had been transformed into what most would mistake for a monster. He didn't understand how he had buried his love though he was very much alive. He didn't know how these crazy people had taken his man and others without anybody finding out about it. He didn't know how in the world he had gotten so lucky as to be granted not one or two but three miracles: for Hank to love him in the first place, for him to still be alive, and for him to love him now still. But just as none of Hank's fears bothered him now so, too, did none of Bobby's confusions hinder him. All that mattered was that his Hank was alive, he loved him, and they were back together, and there was no way in this lifetime or any other that Bobby would ever let him go again!

Kurt looked at the scene taking place before him. He marveled at the miracle God had sent him while giving thanks to Him. It was over at long last; they had won! His people were injured but would recover. Again he thanked God.

Then he felt eyes upon him and knew before looking that it was the eyes of a man who he had been afraid to show that he loved him. He walked over to Piotr, clasped him to his still bleeding chest, and, for one second, looked into his eyes before he drank from his lips the life-giving nectar of love. Silence fell over the others as they looked at the rejoicing couples; eventually, that awe-endowed quiet was broken by a startled, female voice. Prue had returned with Leech in time to celebrate the miracle of love.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	32. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-one**

Lorne had tried to retire for the evening, but his concern for his friends had brought him back downstairs. He had found that he was the only one awake in the building for even Derek was no longer in sight. He had been glad that he had been gone for he would have loved to have hit him not only for throwing him to the Beast but also for all that he had done to Hansel over the years. It was because of Derek that both Hansel and Elvira were gone that night, and he was beginning to worry that they had gotten into something that they could not handle.

Lorne and Elvira had both promised Hansel that they would not hit or otherwise attack Derek, but things were getting ever more trying. Lorne was, by nature, a gentle person, but he would love, just once, to feel his green fist slam into Derek's smug and smirking face. He smiled against his glass at the thought of Derek hollering because he had broken his nose or lost a tooth due to Lorne's punch. If he could have the opportunity just once, Lorne wouldn't even care if he broke a fingernail in the process.

Lorne's red lips twisted into a wry grin as he heard shuffling on the steps and remembered the old, human adage about thinking about the Devil bringing him around. He watched, from over the rim of his wine glass, as Derek fumbled his way down the steps, his only light a flickering candle, and peered around the inn from reddened eyes. "HANSEL?" he shouted.

"He's not here."

"Nobody asked you," Derek snarled, and Lorne fell silent as he watched him go outside. If he had a tail, it would have been twitching in amusement as he listened to Derek bumbling his way around the boardwalk and then cursing a blue streak as a wind snapped out his candle. If only something would snap Derek out as easily!

Still cussing, Derek made his way back inside, picked up Lorne's lantern without so much as a "how do you do", and continued on to the back side of the bar. There he helped himself to beer after beer before slumping against the counter. He leaned there for a while gazing into the dark liquid in his mug and swirling it around. He seemed oblivious to Lorne's red eyes boring holes into him.

The business had not gone well that night, and Hansel still had not returned after running off with that damn Gypsy he'd brought home the night before. To make matters worse, his singer, bitch who he couldn't stand that she was, had also left into the night, and he knew that her anger with him was growing by the day. He hated her and all of her posse of queers, but he knew that she brought in a substantial amount of their business.

As Derek pondered all the horrible things that the blasted lowlife of a Gypsy might be dragging his Hansel into, Lorne's thoughts also turned back to his friends. He had checked Hansel's and Elvira's rooms before coming back downstairs and had found them both empty. Their lingering scents were old, and there was nothing new from them since earlier that night when he'd seen them both leave and wished them well. He wondered yet again if perhaps he should have gone with them, but with a sigh and a slump of his shoulders, admitted once more that there was nothing he could have done to help them. As much as he might wish otherwise so that he could protect his friends, he had never been and would never be a fighter.

Elvira had gone off with men before, but this time it wasn't a man. She had left the inn to follow Hansel and make sure that he was okay, but with both having been gone for so long, Lorne was slowly beginning to face the fact that they must both be in dire straits - and he could do nothing to help them. His horns pulling into a low furrow on his forehead, Lorne promised yet again that he would leave the inn at first light if they still had not shown up and go in search of them, but even then, what could he do that Elvira, as a Vampiress, could not have already done? Whatever they had fallen into was major trouble, but he had no one to turn to for help. His differences kept everybody from even wanting to talk to him, save for Elvira, Hansel, the other dancers, and, - Lorne smirked at the thought - that blue Beast from earlier.

His frown deepened. Had that Beast found Hansel? He had spoken eloquently enough and claimed to be searching for the town's doctor, but Lorne knew all too well that eloquency did not bar evil from one's heart. What if he had found him? What if he had attacked both Hansel and Elvira, or worse? What if . . . He gulped and wiped the moisture from his red eyes. What if they had not returned because they were unable to come home?

* * *

Vin was walking with a limp and trying not to cuss. He wasn't sure of a lot of the things that had happened this night, but one thing he did know beyond a shadow of a doubt was that Bobby had not meant to hurt him when he had vanished his ice bridge so quickly that Vin had been sent flying fast and falling hard and that these new people, strange as they were, were hurting badly. None of the men had released each other as they traveled through the woods, but they were leaving a trail of blood that predators would follow. Vin had been taking up the rear and doing his best to clean up behind them, despite the pains shooting through his own body, but he knew that they were loosing too much blood and something would have to be done or else their loves would still lose them.

The big, metal man was already carrying the fuzzy, blue Demon, and Bobby had not released the furry hand of the one they called Hank since he had reached him. Vin frowned and fought down the strong urge to explode into a string of cuss words. Couldn't these people see that they were hurting? Why did they just continue traipsing through the forest as though nothing was wrong? Yes, they had their loves at last, but what good would that do them if they died from loss of blood? They were every bit as damn stubborn as Chris, and Nathan wasn't there to help them!

He was picking up bloodied leaves and tossing them into yet another pouch when his blue eyes spied something that caught his attention. Vin leaned closer and lifted the berry from the ground. A smile lit his face, and he gave a low whistle. To his dismay, the others simply ignored him and kept walking!

But then the redheaded woman to whom he'd given his jacket for clothing after she'd turned back into her human form from her Werewolf turned around and walked back to him. Her green eyes peered anxiously up at him, and he wondered if the strange, little catgirl she carried might somehow be her daughter as the girl mirrored her expression. The pink boy who clung to the woman's hand looked up at him in confusion and blinked.

Rahne gazed into the blue eyes of the human stranger who had helped to rescue them and wondered about him. He had been quiet the entire time they had been walking, but he had not left them nor had he screamed or cursed them for Demons as nearly every other human she'd ever encountered had always eventually done. "Sir," she asked softly, "is there a problem?" There was no doubt in the young woman's mind that if she had been in either of her wolven forms, her tail would have been twitching. As it was, she could feel Falisha's long, furry tail gently slapping her side.

Vin stared at the woman in disbelief. "Shit!" escaped from his mouth before he could stop it. "Woman, don't ya see what's goin' on here?"

Falisha's ears laid back against her head; Artie took a step behind Rahne and tried to hide. "Sir, I appreciate yer help," Rahne stated, "but I'll nae have ye frightenin' th' children."

Vin noted, to his surprise, that the girl was a Scot and flinched inwardly at the fright he saw in the kids' eyes. He reached out a hand to the girl who cautiously sniffed him. He fought down the funny feeling and the tickling sensation and let her become accustomed to his smell, as he would have with any wild animal, as he talked, "I'm sorry. I wan't tryin' t' frighten y'all, but don't ya see th' others are hurt?"

"Aye. But what can we di 'bout it here, in th' middle o' the forest?"

"These berries," Vin told her, lifting the one he had plucked for her to see, "can help to stop th' bleedin'. It's somethin' I learned years ago from th' Indians."

Surprise registered in Rahne's green eyes. "Ye knae Indians?"

"Yeah. Lived wit' them fer a while." Vin was used to most people reacting to this bit of his past with surprise, and so the woman's did not bother him in the least. "Never had much blood family," he told her. "When my Ma died, a local tribe took me in. They finished raisin' me." He smiled shyly as he admitted, "I'm more o' an Indian, ma'am, than I am most anythin' else." The urge to ask her just what she was was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. He didn't want to frighten her or the children or set them any more at unease than they already were.

Rahne nodded. "I knae ye must be wonderin' 'bout us, sir," she offered. "We're mutants. Ever heard th' word before?"

Vin shook his head. "Can't say I have, ma'am. Whatever ye are, ye're still livin' beings an' . . . " His words suddenly trailed off as Falisha bumped his hand with her head. He smiled down at the young girl with the fur, ears, tail, and whiskers of a cat and gently stroked her head. A warmth spread through him as she began to purr, and he continued to pet her for a few minutes before looking back to Rahne. "Will ya help me gather some o' these berries so that we can help yer friends?" Vin felt a tug on his trousers and gazed down into the face of the pink boy, who now looked hopeful.

Rahne smiled at the sight of the berries staining the boy's hands red. "I believe," she announced, "tha' Artie's already doin' so, sir."

Vin nodded and grinned down at the lad. "So he is." He took another pouch from his belt, pulled it open, and held it down before the boy. "Here. Put them in here if ya will." Artie quickly obeyed. Once he had finished dropping the berries in the pouch, Vin shut the small, leather bag; smiled approvingly; and took his hand from Falisha to pat the boy's head.

"Mrrw?"

Surprised by the sound, Vin looked back up to the catgirl. She gave him a look that clearly asked why he had stopped petting her. "It's all right," he told her. "We've got some work we gotta do, but I'll pet ya some more later. Sound good?" He stroked her head once more, and she bumped her head against his hand in eagerness to receive more attention.

"Yes," she answered, her tail swishing. Vin smiled in response.

"How many more di we need, sir?"

Vin thought a moment. "We need to fill two bags," he said. "That should be enough to stop their bleeding." At least he hoped so.

* * *

A soft chuffing noise was coming from the small window at the top of the dungeon. Jack looked at the window but could see nothing. "What is that at the window?" he asked.

"Tonto?" Hansel called in surprise. He squinted as he tried to peer closer at the window through the darkness, but still he could not see him. It didn't matter, however, as he'd know the being's voice anywhere. He smiled but shook his head. "*I told you to go after Faith!*" he whinnied sharply.

Tonto whinnied back to him, his spotted ears laying back against his long head as he did so. He had tried to return to their world through the waterfall but had encountered only rocks. There was no way back through the waterfall, and he told his best friend so as he peered at the Gnomes posted to either side of the dungeon.

"*What do you mean ya can't go back that way?*" Hansel demanded in another sharp and long whinny, his balled hands perching on top of his hips. "*How are we gonna get out of this mess without Faith?*" he demanded to know. He was touched by Tonto's loyalty, as he always had been and would be forever, but he wanted to have at least one of the two most important males in all the world to him safe! "*You have to find her! We can't get out of this mess without her!*"

Tonto chuffed again. His long, white tail whisked. Hansel was wrong. He had to be, because there had to be a way out and to safety. He couldn't let his best friend continue to be harmed! The pinto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. All the other Gnomes had scampered away and, at this late hour, were most likely sleeping.

The Indian pony's brown eyes snapped open, and bedeviled mischief danced within his orbs. He raised his head with a toothy grin to look at the Gnomes. They had barely had a chance to consider the wickedness of his glare before he struck. Tonto jumped agilely into the air and kicked out his front and hind hooves simultaneously. He tossed his head proudly as he kicked both Gnomes into unconsciousness. Landing gracefully upon his hooves, he whickered laughingly back down at Hansel.

Hansel gazed up at the window. "*You did _what_?*" he asked in surprise. Hansel's grin grew at Tonto's spirited response. "*All right,*" he whickered back to him, "*but how's that gonna help us get out of this hole?*"

The light of the full moon flashed upon the window, and Hansel's blue eyes shot wide in surprise when he saw Tonto's hooves hovering just over the glass. "Get back!" he cried, jumping backwards, away from both the rats and the window, and pulling Jack with him.

With a whinnying cry of freedom, Tonto struck the window.

* * *

Logan screamed and, letting go of the monster he had been fighting so desperately, he now began to beat frantically at the fire that hungrily licked his flesh. Finally he dropped and rolled, smothering the fire. He jumped to his feet and searched the area for the man owl he had been fighting only to see that he had moved closer to Creed. He yelled at his enemy. Jareth turned owl eyes upon him, his beak screeching even as he circled back around and prepared to attack again.

What a strong, strange man this little man was, Hell bent upon defending the man lying on the ground at their feet. What could he possibly mean to him? Jareth knew that they would be an equal match and that one of them could very well end up dead. He intended that it not be him.

Delvira had thrown the fireball, giving him a few precious moments, and he had almost reached the miscreant when he heard him behind him yet again, yelling at him to turn and face him. Jareth now stood face to face waiting for the next attack while trying to talk to Delvira's mind. *He's stronger than his appearance! Thanks for the fireball. What is their problem? Send them home...*

*No,* Delvira whispered within Jareth's mind, her black eyes intently watching both men's movements. She knew that that simple, gentle denial would command her husband's attention. *Back away from him, please, my darling. I can hold him at bay. We need you. Tell me you know how to heal this girl. Evidently she means a great deal to the Fieries. They say she saved them.*

{Alas, my sweet darling, that is not within my powers! Use your crystals and see if there is some one who can help!} His eyes did not leave the runt of a man before him, expecting his attack at any moment.

Logan watched the birdman, impatient for his attack but knowing better than to attack first. The blood no longer ran down his body as his body began to heal itself...

"Watch the little, short man," Delvira crooned to the Fieries gathered around her. She pointed a long, pale finger tipped in a sharp, black fingernail that the moonlight glinted off of at the man in question. "He not only dares to attack our King but is stupid enough to align himself with the heartless murderer who slayed so many of our family this night and," she said with a sly smile, "undoubtedly also involved with what happened to your friend there. Watch him and do not let him harm our King while I see what we can do for your sister."

The Fieries converged. They crawled, slithered, hopped on single legs, jumped on two and more legs, flapped, skittered, and danced their way to surround the short man and their King. They would not move on their enemy unless their King gave them permission, but death glittered in each creature's beady, black eyes. Tearing him limb from limb would help to satisfy their anger even if it was not the one they truly wished to party with until he could no longer pull his body parts back together. The tallest male in the group asked the man, "Wanna party, asshole?"

Delvira grinned. That was a word they had picked up from her. "Should you need me, call," she told her beloved husband and their subjects.

Then her eyes shot wide and narrowed to slits. Her hands raised, and she began to chant. The very air around her hummed as crystal balls began to pop into her empty hands. Her slender, pale fingers twirled them at first and then juggled when there were ten. Images flickered through them, and she waited, searching with both her mind and her eyes for the answer she sought.

Logan could not believe the nightmarish creatures looming around him. Then one of the things actually spoke to him, and he backed up. What were these things? Demons to torment the life from him! "NO!" he roared. "I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YA! BE GONE, DEMONS FROM HELL!"

"DON'T CALL THEM THAT!" Jareth demanded. "They are my family! Your friend killed some of their members! They want justice; they would take your blood if I asked it of them."

Logan shuddered. "I hope they don't!" He had never been caught in a nightmare such as this before in all his many, many years. "How can we end this? I won't surrender Creed without a fight!"

"And I will not let this go without justice being served! You can chose to walk away or stay. If you stay, we will fight to the finish. Whether it be yours or mine remains to be seen. Is he worth dying over?" Jareth looked condescendingly down upon the killer who was swiftly healing and was surprised when his opponent nodded.

"Yeah," Logan answered, only mildly surprised to find that there was no doubt within his mind. "He's his own worst enemy an' my one an' only love." Why had he not understood that before? It didn't matter what sides of the law they were on; he would always love Creed. But why in the Hell had he had to have gone straight?

* * *

It proved to be Derek who finally broke the silence in the saloon that was as audible and dangerous as a gun shot between them. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Why should you care?" Lorne hotly returned. He sent him a murderous glare that would have pierced a lesser soul. "You're the reason why they're not here!"

That was all the encouragement Derek needed to fly off of the handle. "HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF DOING SOMETHING WITH THAT LOWLIFE SCUM!" Then he added in a dark mutter, "They're probably off together screwing!"

Derek turned to pour himself another drink, and when he turned back around, he found himself face to face with Lorne whose red eyes flashed in warning and whose green hands were balled into tight fists by his side. Lorne fought to resist the urge to hit Derek with every bit of strength he possessed. "DON'T TALK ABOUT THEM LIKE THAT!"

"DON'T YOU DARE HIT ME!" Derek warned. "IF YOU DO, I'LL HAVE YOU PUT UNDER THE JAILHOUSE!"

Lorne glared at him but backed off and returned to his table. He wasn't worried about being arrested. Elvira would break him out if Sheriff Cassidy didn't let him go simply because he knew what a miserable ass Derek was. However, he had promised Hansel that he would never harm Derek, and he was a man of his word. He would keep his promise, no matter how greatly he wished that he could break it and no matter the fact that his fervent wishing was to help Hansel and not himself.

He watched in furious silence as Derek grabbed two bottles of their most expensive liqueur off of the shelves, picked Lorne's lantern up again, and stomped his way back up the stairs. Lorne waited alone for Elvira and Hansel to return until finally, feeling he was unable to keep his eyes open or his head up for many more seconds, he began to climb the stairs to his room.

A pounding startled him so that he jumped slightly, and he wearily turned back around and retraced his steps. Slowly he opened the door, expecting even more trouble but not what he found: A very slender boy dressed in black with a black hat pulled down over his ears stood there staring at him. "Can I help you?" Lorne asked. "Whom do you seek?"

Ice blue eyes met the Demon's red eyes unflinchingly, but there was a plea to their expression. "We seek shelter." The tone was crisp and cultured despite the rugged appearance of its speaker. A brief whine touched the air and then was immediately silenced. The stranger's full, pink lips curved up into an innocent smile.

* * *

The weary traveler pulled his exhausted body through the open mouth of the cave as the moon began to sink beyond the horizon. He stopped where he stood and whipped out his gun, his dark eyes zeroing in on a pile of human flesh and clothing that barely lifted a few feet ahead. Most men would have been unable to spot the boy in the darkness that lingered, but Addamm saw perfectly well in the dark.

He cocked his head, his gun trained on the boy. Inaudible words buzzed from his lips as he listened to the voices that only he could hear. He nodded once, spoke again, and then moved quietly forward. He gently nudged the boy with his pistol until he turned ever so slightly in his sleep.

Addamm gave a sharp intake of breath. He'd not expected the lad to look so beautiful, so peaceful, so innocent . . . like a sleeping Angel. His gun remained trained on him as he reached down and smoothed a few blonde locks out of his forehead. He was truly breathtaking, but he was not his. He belonged to Faith, or so his friends had told him for he'd been calling for her as he'd passed out from complete and utter exhaustion.

The highwayman smirked. The lady gunslinger did have a way of collecting innocents: collecting them and tossing them aside. Why should this one be any different? Perhaps, he mused, because when she tired of this one and kicked him away like a lowly, mangy dog, he himself just might pick up the pieces.

His hand lingered on his face as he contemplated what best to do with him. He'd let him sleep, he finally decided, and then deal with him. The boy needed new clothes for one thing, and whatever mess Faith had gotten him and herself into, he was going to need help to get her out of it. Addamm didn't normally involve himself with the affairs of people beyond his own, but this one time, for such a beaut, he might make an exception.

In the mean time, he thought, stifling a yawn behind a gloved hand, he could use some rest himself. Making certain the boy still slumbered, he pulled away from him and spoke once more to his friends before continuing along his path. One boulder rolled to the side to reveal a narrow corridor in the hill while the first boulder rolled back to block the entrance way. Addamm walked into the corridor and hesitated for just a moment before flicking his wrist in a gesture for his companions to leave the second boulder alone. They buzzingly agreed, and he continued on to his bed chamber.

There he stripped, hid his clothes, took a second bath for the night, and finally laid down. His head touched his feather pillow just as the sun began to lift over the far hills. His thoughts returned to the innocent boy sleeping just a small pace away, but when he fell into Morpheus' embrace, Addamm was surprised to find another man awaiting him. A smile curved the naked highwayman's mouth as he whispered, "Jean-Luc."

Still holding tightly to Faith's guns, Dawson barely stirred in his sleep. He did not know that he had been watched nor longed for as a sweet! He did not hear the rustlings of a thousand tiny feet nor their chirping. He slept as one dead and dreamed of the one he loved... She was safe and taunting him, and he was chasing her but never catching her...

* * *

Shards of glass flew through the air, narrowly missing Jack and Hansel. Jack grinned upward at the window that was still so far out of reach and then at Hansel. "Tonto seems very determined to get us out, but how are we gonna get up there?"

Several dead rats floated in the murky water. Their bodies stuck out of the muck at weird angles and made the men shiver. Many others were trying to reach them for food, but none were close enough to attack them yet. Jack gazed around the dungeon but saw nothing that would help their cause.

Hansel stomped his bare foot against the ground and shook his head. If only he'd not been so quick to get rid of his saddle earlier that very day . . . ! The memory made him pause. Had it really only been that morning that he'd met Jack and fallen in love with him? So many things had happened so quickly! He shook his head in amazement.

"*Tonto,*" he whinnied up, "*do you see anything we can use, brother?*"

Tonto pranced nervously, shaking his head. He should have thought to get Hansel's rope earlier, but he hadn't. He stopped and looked thoughtfully at the Gnomes. Maybe they had something that could be used? He walked over to one and sniffed him. He nuzzled at his clothes but couldn't tell what he might have in his pockets. Tonto decisively closed his teeth around the little fellow's jacket, picked him up, and swung him over into the dungeon. The second Gnome quickly followed the first.

Jack had almost been hit by one of the falling Gnomes; as it were, he got splashed by the murky water. He abhorred slime, and now he had it on him! Oh, for some good clean water in which to clean himself! {Ah, well, on to the business at hand,} he told himself as he reached out and pulled one of the Gnomes close enough that he could rifle through his pockets.

He found flint, a rock, string, copper coins, some kind of unidentifiable food which he threw at the rats, lint balls, and a key. He sighed dejectedly. None of them would do them any good as the door was locked from the outside! He stuffed it all back into the Gnome's pockets and then dragged him to a dry spot before turning to Hansel with a disappointed look in his eyes and announcing the sad word of, "Nothing."

Hansel's wide, blue eyes stared at his love in amazement. He had known he was beside himself but was astonished that the fact that he had pulled a key out of the Gnome's pocket did not even appear to have registered on him. He smiled lovingly at him, walked over, knelt beside the Gnome, and retrieved the key. Holding it up so that the moonlight filtering through the window reflected upon the silver key, Hansel asked with a grin, "Are you sure about that, sweetheart? Come here. Let me try your cuffs."

Jack grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, maybe it does!" He held out his hands eagerly ...

Hansel couldn't help but to smile at his love's charming eagerness. He reached out and gingerly touched his wrists before attempting to slide the key into the hole of his bonds. His grin grew and his blue eyes danced in eager delight when the key slid smoothly home and clicked. Jack's chains fell away, and Hansel surged forth and kissed him passionately.

* * *

Will was asleep on his feet, and Jack barely caught him before he pitched face forward. Gibbs looked at Jack holding Will. "I trust ye ta be careful o' him."

"I will guard him with me life," Jack promised, "an' nae matter what, I will not take advantage o' him."

"I believe ye, Jack, although I know how hard it will be not ta have yer way wit' him. He is not a well man; we must find the reason an' help him recover himself." Jack nodded.

Jack walked slowly as to not wake Will. He fumbled with the doorknob until the door finally opened and then carried him in to the big, feather bed. As he laid Will on the bed, he felt his arms go around him; looking at him, he could tell he was asleep. He had to pull himself away from Will when all he wanted was to climb into their bed and hold him all night long.

He looked at the sleeping Will and smiled. Will was home at last, and no matter that his mind seemed to be hurt, with Jack and Gibbs taking care of him, he'd soon return to normal. Jack slipped Will's boots off and set them quietly on the floor. Very gently, he brushed Will's wayward hair back out of his eyes and then softly kissed his forehead. "Good night, my love," he whispered. "Welcome home!" Jack wanted Will to remember him and love him again. He vowed to himself to give him all the time he needed even if it took the rest of their lifetime.

He threw himself down on the floor beside the bed and dozed off into fitful sleep, dreaming of what had once been and hopes of what would come...

* * *

"Shelter from what?" Lorne asked. "The storm is long over. Who are you?" To himself he wondered why he smelled wolf, cat, and lizard when he looked at the boy. He also wondered why he felt an urge to pull the stranger inside and lock the door, keeping the world out! He had had many lovers but none quite this young, yet his loins were definitely being pulled towards him. He felt an unreasonable urge to take him to his room and keep him there. He hoped the lad could not pick up on what he was feeling.

"There is . . . " The ice blue eyes flitted to the shadows beyond the boardwalk. " . . . a danger out this night." They returned to the handsome Demon standing just inside the saloon. "I am certain you know well of the things that run amuck on full moon nights." Those same eyes fought to remain strong and free of betraying emotions despite the worry that plagued their owner's heart.

"My dear, young friend, there are always dangers out there at night, but tonight there is more then usual. There is a talking, big, blue, and furry monster out there! He almost ate me as I was thrown to him by one of the owners of this fine establishment. If it had not been intelligent, it would have eaten me. Come inside and bring your friends, for though they are hidden, I can smell them. You will be safe here." He smiled at him in the darkness...

The stranger had started to step into the saloon but froze when the Demon mentioned friends. Wide, blue eyes peered at him anxiously. "Friends? I've no notion of what you mean. I am quite alone, as you can see." Pale white hands spread wide before him, palms up.

"Do not fear; you will all be safe here. Come with me to my room." Lorne looked at the boy and wondered who he was and why he felt so attracted to him. He had never wanted one quite so young... If he wanted to pretend that he was alone, then Lorne would play along with it. Sooner or later, they would give themselves away.

The blonde looked inquisitively at the Demon. Ice blue eyes full of uncertainty and doubt cast a quick glance to the shadows surrounding long, lean legs. They looked at each face only they could see in return. One furry face was filled with pain, the scaly one with determination, and the third set in a permanent growl. The stranger gave the briefest of nods and slowly followed the Demon inside the saloon, grimacing at the sight of muddy paw prints, dragging booted feet through them, and hoping the Demon had not seen the proof before his own red eyes.

* * *

Prue had been leading the way home with the little ragtag band that needed help. All her senses were alert, so she knew when the last part of the party had started dragging behind. Now she stopped and allowed the others to rest a minute, giving the missing ones a chance to catch up. "We will rest for a small while; catch your breath!" She let Leech down, and he ran off into the bush.

She went to stand beside her "Father" and touched his face gently. It was swollen and one eye was almost completely closed, but he gave her a small smile. She looked at the man who was holding to him so tightly. She liked this man, because he had an honest but troubled face. She was glad that they had found each other.

She could hardly wait until her Mother saw her "Father" again. {Hopefully we can be one big happy family again,} she thought. How wonderful that would be! She peered anxiously back the way they had come, eager for the others to catch up to them so that they could continue their journey and reach her home. The sooner her Mother was reunited with her "Father", the sooner their family could be happy again!

Bobby did not recognize the young woman and bristled inwardly at the way she touched his beloved Hank's handsome face. He looked up at him, expecting him to draw away from the woman's touch, and was dismayed when he did not. For the first time since being reunited with him, his heart saddened.

Hank felt Bobby's emotions stirring within him, draped his furry arm around his slender waist, and pulled him tightly against his side. "Bobby, my darling beloved, this is Prue. You may remember Ororo's daughter?"

Bobby's brown eyes flitted between the two, his surprise growing but his anger lessening. "Prue?" he asked in disbelief. "You were only a child when last I saw you!" For a brief moment, he wondered if Ororo had known that Hank was still alive, but he quickly passed that away as impossible for he'd held her and let her tears soak his shoulders at his love's funeral.

Bobby gazed back up at Hank, his eyes full of questions. There was so much he wanted to ask him, but first they had to find a way to make him better. He would not ask him to remember the horrible details of what had happened to him over the years that they had been separated and invoke pain in his heart when he was already clearly physically hurting a great deal.

Hank staggered, and Bobby caught him quickly. "Here, baby," he said soothingly, "sit down." He guided Hank to a nearby tree that had fallen during the storm. Hank lowered himself onto the tree with Bobby's quiet assistance, and both men pretended not to hear the creaks and groans of the tree as he sat upon it.

Piotr was loathe to release Kurt but had sat him down onto the other end when he'd softly requested he'd do so. He gazed down at him from troubled blue eyes, wondering why he had been so quick to want to leave his arms and desperately hoping that he was not regretting their kiss which had been the best moment of his entire life, but Kurt did not seem to catch onto his concerns.

Turning from his secret love and flexing his iron muscles just a bit, Piotr turned his attention to the white woman dressed as an Indian. He knew his dear, sweet Kurt was hurt and wore the stains of his blood upon his armor. He walked over to Prue and dropped his voice to a whisper that he hoped the others would not overhear. "We can not continue this way much longer. They must have help!"

"We will never make it this way," Prue agreed. Blue was too far gone to make it on his own, and no two men could carry him. The other one that looked like a blue Demon with a forked tail appeared as though he was about to pass out, and she knew he could not make it on his own...

"I don't want to worry you, but we have missing people. As soon as they get here, we will have to figure out what we can do." She wondered if she should go after the wanderers.

"I can go back for them if you like," Piotr volunteered, "but what are we going to do to help Kurt and Hank?" He had no idea that she might not know the name of the big, blue guy or that it could be so important to her and only knew it himself for he'd heard the young brunette who even now clung to the big guy's side screaming it as he'd come to their rescue. "There are no doctors out here!" His eyes shone with his worry.

"No," Prue told Piotr, "Stay with your friend. I will go back for them. Leech, stay!"

Piotr did not even think of arguing with the woman for although he had been taught that it was a man's place to put himself in the way of danger and keep the women safe, he did not want to leave Kurt. He walked behind his love now and began to gently massage his furry shoulders while looking over him and checking his injuries. Only once he had noted where the worst amounts of blood were coming from did Piotr take what remained of his shirt, finish tearing it into rags, and begin to attempt to stop Kurt's bleeding.

* * *

Jack kissed Hansel with all the passion and love that filled his heart and soul for this man alone. He barely reining himself in, but he forced himself to break off their kiss with a sigh. He didn't want to take Hansel in such filthy conditions even though he burned at his slightest touch. "It's your turn, my love. Let's see if it will free you as well..."

Hansel nodded. Although he ached to be completed by his beloved Jack, he knew that time was of the essence if they were to ever escape this place. Taking one step back as they had grown so close together that they could each feel every inch of one another's hot, hard bodies pressing against their own, Hansel held up his chained hands. His blue eyes met Jack's in the darkness lit only by a passing moonbeam, and they glittered. They would be free not only of this but of all their enemies, and when the day came that they were, they would ride forever free, together, and completely and utterly in love!

The key slid into the hole like a knife into hot butter and sprang the lock free... Jack wanted to clap in joyful glee... "Now what do we do?" he asked Hansel. "Neither of us can fly, and we have no rope..." He looked up at the tiny window so far above them. He could tell Tonto awaited them but knew not what to tell him to do to help them any further. He looked hopefully at Hansel, hoping he had the next answer to their dilemma...

Hansel's soft, pink lips frowned in thought as he gazed down at the Gnomes. He reached over, pulled the one whose pockets Jack had not yet searched to them, bent, and quickly rifled through his pockets. He found several coins and a few gold pieces and wished that they had clothes so that he might squirrel them away for another day. He shook his head in dismay as he stuffed the Gnome's belongings back into his tiny pockets and took another look at the little fellows. They were too small for their clothes to be able to be tied together to make a successful ladder.

He frowned, returned to his bare feet, and began to pace as he pondered their situation. What would Faith do? He glanced around them but could see no possible holds on the slick walls. They had no weapons. He continued to pace as his thoughts swirled in desperate search of a possibility that might just earn them their freedom.

Jack, too, began to pace the dungeon... Their freedom was so close and yet so far... What could they do? Who could help?

* * *

Now Jareth knew the reason why this man fought for the other. If the roles had been reversed and it had been he and Delvira, he knew they would have stayed and fought.

"Who's the other one?" Jareth asked.

"His prisoner. Kill her if ya have ta kill some one!"

"NO!" many of the surviving Fieries shouted, shaking their tiny fists menacingly at the short man.

The tall male again spoke, his voice soft, grave, and deadly. "Kill him," he suggested.

"Yessss!"

"That'll really be fun!"

"Let's party with his corpse 'til doomsday!"

Wicked laughter began to whisper through the Fieries. Their eyes glowed. "Please, Master," the little female, who hovered closest to Jareth whispered, "can't we kill him, please?"

"His mate killed our family!" another announced.

"It's only fair! Life for life!"

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" they began to chant as Delvira continued whirling her crystal balls round and round . . .

* * *

"Is dat how you greet all your visitors, chere?" demanded a man chained and carried between two towering and brutish Trolls.

"Actually, no," the woman dressed all in black replied as she rose from her throne and walked gracefully down to meet him. The click-clack of her black high heels echoed in her palace, and lesser beings of evil scurried quickly out of sight lest her anger be drawn down upon them for simply existing. "I usually let my guards rip apart my trespassers and dine on their remains, but you intrigued me."

Pausing before him, she lifted a pale, cold hand and touched his cheek. She caressed him as she continued to speak, "You are not hard upon the eyes, little mortal, and you came here to purposefully seek me out though not to attack me." Her black eyes narrowed inquisitively at him. "I sense you are not a complete fool, so why have you come to face my wrath?"

He sensed that this was a woman with whom he dared not mess around. "To offer you somet'in', or rather, some one I believe ya'll find interestin', mon beaut." He was finally beginning to think that might have been a mistake but remained confident that he could find a way to escape.

"And what is it that a mere mortal thinks he could use to invoke the interest of the Queen of all Evil?"

"A man or, rather, a cat." The dark-haired prisoner grinned mischievously in the blackness lit only by the flickering torches that dotted the stone walls of the castle that had appeared in the hills only that very night and his own blood red eyes.

"Who would go by what name?" the Queen questioned, her sharp, black fingernails tapping the man's rough cheek.

He grinned, his red eyes glowing in the darkness. "Salem Saberhagen."

**To Be Continued . . . **


	33. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-two**

Jareth knew that all he had to do was move out of the way and the Fieries would take over. They were working themselves up into a lather. Should he let the innocents become murderers? He shook his head at their wanting such. "I can't let you do that. Back down. If there is killing to be done, I will do it!" He hoped that his beloved would find something promising before the attack began again.

"Aw."

"Phooey!"

"Then do it!"

"Please do it, Your Highness!"

"You know he deserves it!"

"Killer! Killer! Killer!" they began to chant.

Jareth continued watching the stocky, little man knowing that when the attack came it would be worse than the last one. Hopefully Delvira would find an answer before the attack came. "QUIET!" he bellowed at the Fieries who were now giving him a headache. He muttered with a fluttering of the wings that remained on his body, "I can't hear myself think ..."

Delvira paused in the twirling of her crystal balls to gaze more intently into one particular glowing orb. Confusion and uncertainty passed over her face. "It can't be . . . " she whispered. Then fluent ancient Latin began to spill from her black lips. She had to be certain of this before she ever said a word to her husband! One mention of the name of the being her powers told her that she was watching would raise her husband's hopes far pass the cosmos, but she would not be the one to break his heart. They had been looking for the Wizard for so long that it seemed impossible to have at last found him now and so easily at that!

"What cannot be, my darling?" Jareth questioned, never taking his eyes off the sawed-off, shriveled-up man who stared just as intently back at him.

Logan was praying real hard that Creed would somehow pull it together enough to help him fight all those who now opposed him. He too, heard the woman and wondered what she was talking about.

*Never you mind, my heart,* Delvira thought reassuringly to her beloved husband. Then she muttered within the recesses of her own mind, without first checking to make certain that Jareth was not listening in on her thoughts, *At least for now.*

* * *

One of the Gnomes inside the dungeon that held Jack and Hansel prisoner began to moan and sat up suddenly. Terror filled his eyes when he realized where they were and who now had them captive... Rocking back and forth on the floor, keening, oblivious to all in the room...

Hansel turned and caught sight of the cowering Gnome. His mind flashed back to children who had cowered in fear as they were held captive by the white man. The Gnome was no child, but he was the same size as a child and might be just as innocent if left to his own devices. Pushing away the memories that still made his skin crawl and his heart ache, Hansel walked cautiously toward him, holding out both of his hands so that he could see they were empty.

"Hi there," he said, his voice soft and cautious and his smile bright and reassuring. He stooped before the fellow. "We don't have to be enemies," he told him. "Jack and I honestly didn't mean to interrupt your friend earlier. We were running for our lives. Have you ever run for your life? You don't really pay attention where you're going when you're running away to stay alive. You just make sure you're running from the thing trying to kill you."

Hunters were universal killers who struck fear in every innocent heart anywhere they went, Hansel thought, and so he cocked his head, looked intently into the Gnome's frightened eyes, and asked, "Have you ever heard of the Hunter? That's who we were running from. He wanted to kill us. We'd done nothing to him, but he wanted to kill us. He's killed hundreds of innocent souls." The corners of Hansel's lips turned up as his smile grew sweeter. "You can't really blame us for not wanting to be added to his collection, can you?"

Jack stopped walking and closed his eyes, remembering a conversation he had had once with his Grandmother about his inability to talk to the animals. She had taught him all that she could about his gifts that she said would one day kick in when he least expected. The animals would talk to him when he needed them most. He had wanted to believe her and had pretended that he did, but he had doubted.

Now if only they would kick in! He slowed his breathing down, concentrated on her lessons given so long ago, and prayed. He began to sing a bird song so sweet that all who heard it paused and listened. As he continued to sing, a miracle was granted, although unbeknownst to Jack...

Several small birds flitted through the dungeon. Seeing what he needed, they left and went for one who could help... The first that Jack was aware of was when he heard the cawing of an eagle and he looked up towards the window as a vine was slowly pushed through the window straight to them...

* * *

Prue ran nimbly down the path from which they had just come, hoping to find the others soon. As she ran, her mind kept repeating the blue Beast's name: Hank. It seemed to fit him. She had already suspected that he was the same Hank she had heard about all her life, and now she knew that her suspicions were indeed right. Her Mother had spoken of Hank often, and Prue wondered how it could be that Hank loved the man he was with and also her Mother. She worried about getting help for the injured as she could see that Hank could not help himself so, therefore, could not help others.

She knew her people would have come to help if they had been able, but she knew of no one else save the doctor who had gone missing. Up ahead she spied the missing members who seemed to be searching for something ...

Vin looked up as the woman approached. "I think we have enough, y'all," he stated to the trio who were still searching. He tied the bag shut before turning to face Prue. He tipped his hat to her as he drawled, "Sorry t' worry ya, ma'am, but we got somethin' we can use to stop th' bleedin'." He then turned back around and offered his hand to the pink boy.

Artie looked from the white man to Rahne, who nodded her encouragement as she gathered Falisha into her arms. Falisha's tail whisked and she mewed happily as Rahne swept her up. Hesitantly Artie took Vin's hand and then smiled as the tall, lean man picked him up and carefully swung him through the air. Vin frowned in puzzlement as Artie did not make any sound. Catching his frown and understanding his confusion, Rahne shook her head sadly and made a cutting motion with her hand to her throat. Vin's sky blue eyes saddened, but he smiled brightly at the lad as he gathered him close to his chest.

Kurt trembled as Piotr did what he could for him. Kurt had never had any one to hold him when he was in pain, and that's what he desired of all things at this moment in time... "Thank you, mein fruend, but ze pain would lessen some if you were to hold me!" His long, blue tail swished.

Piotr smiled as his heart gave a little jump and warmed. "It would be my honor, dear one." He lowered his bulky frame onto the tree trunk and gathered Kurt close into his arms. His fingers brushed his fur, and he secretly marveled at how soft it felt. It was true that he had never once in his entire lifetime been surrounded by silk or velvet, but he had heard of the cloths and imagined that Kurt's fur felt even softer. Daringly, he leaned his head down and pressed a gentle kiss to Kurt's forehead.

Prue marveled that something as simple as a berry could stop bleeding. "This I have to see," she told the man. "By the way, I didn't catch your name?"

"Vin Tanner, ma'am," Vin said with another respectful tip of his hat. "Sorry. I don't think I gave it earlier. Been too much goin' on tonight." He wondered how she could be living with Indians and yet not know of the berry as it grew locally, but he did not pry into the lady's business.

* * *

Lorne knew something was there with the boy. He wasn't sure what it was except that it was alive and that he was not going to reveal his secrets to him, and he really couldn't blame the lad. Due to his own appearance, he was surprised the boy had not fled in fright but was even now following him up the darkened staircase. Lorne thought that he must be in some terribly bad trouble or he would not be there now.

Lorne could have found his way to his room even if he had been blindfolded. He led the boy inside to where, once Lorne had lit the lamp, the lad could see was an extremely King size bed. "You take that side over there, and I'll stay on my side. There'll be plenty of room. Tomorrow we can see about getting you a place of your own, but it's late tonight. Have you eaten today?"

The blonde's mouth fell open. Ice blue eyes rapidly, and almost frantically, darted between the bed and the Demon. "We . . . We are to sleep in . . . in that . . . b-bed . . . _together_?" The last word came out as a squeak. A growl, a coo, and a whine went unheard by the Demon's ears.

"You're safe; I don't do kids! If you don't stay here, you'll have no where else you can hide. Are you hungry?"

Ice blue eyes dropped to the floor at the sound of an urgent, pleading howl that so surprised the four companions that the heart-rending sound broke through the protective barrier. The blonde's mouth dropped open, and he fell to his knees on the floor. His hands hovered in the air, and something shimmered along his slender, gloved fingers. "Yes, yes . . . " the blonde spoke distractedly. "We - I'm hungry . . . starving . . . Please, sir, if you've anything to share, do it."

Another growl met the blonde's ears. "Easy, girl," he spoke soothingly. "Now's not the time. What? Do you want to blow our cover completely, Cindy?" His eyes flashed in defiance. "I've not the time to argue with you! We don't have time for that, and you're not doing that!" He sighed. "I know he knows, but I'll deal with him." No sooner were those words out of the blonde's mouth than the Demon's body temperature swiftly lowered.

Lorne shook his head as an overpowering urge to go to sleep warred with him. Not even vigorous shaking was helping. "Stop making it colder in here, boy. If you want food, I have to go get it. I can't get it if I fall asleep. You can trust me..." Lorne backed to the door, left the room quickly, and headed for the kitchen...

The blonde looked in surprise at where the Demon had simply gone out of his own bedroom. "Never . . . " she whispered in shock, " . . . has that ever happened before . . . "

"Coo!"

"You're right, Blue. We've no time for thinking about any ulterior motives he may have, although he does seem to be genuinely good." A growl pierced her words, and she looked at a lioness whose tail was cutting sharply and rapidly through the empty air. "I know, Cindy. We can't trust any one, love. Go guard the door."

Then the blonde returned his full attention to where it should have been all along: to the wolf who lay limply beside him, blood spewing from her shoulder.

"Coo coo," the "lizard" called Blue spoke reassuringly to the wolf. He wrapped his small, leathery wings around her furry hind legs.

Elvira reassuringly licked her brother, then forced herself to stay still as their two-legged best friend pulled the arrow out of her shoulder. She tried to be quiet. She really did, but it just hurt too much! The blonde grimaced and Cindy growled, her fur rising, as Elvira's howl echoed throughout the inn.

* * *

How horrible are the dreams of a man who has lost his love and his only reason to live! Jack tossed and rolled restlessly on the floor under his bed. Sweat broke out upon his body as he relived the nightmares that caused him to consume rum constantly while he was awake.

Once again, for all too brief a moment, he felt his body entwined with his beloved Will, and then, in scant seconds and even as he cried out against the loss and agony of his empty arms, he felt Will snatched from him! He saw that bitch, Elizabeth, drive her sword straight through his beloved's heart, all because Will had not loved her! Jack had held him close, known he was dying and had been powerless to stop it. He had pressed his trembling lips to Will's desperately, so that his love would be the last thing Will would know and remember. Will had died in Jack's arms, and all that was good of Jack had died with him.

They had had to forcefully take Will for burial for Jack had not wanted to release him. The shell of the man who had remained stayed for two reasons. One was revenge. Jack had vowed to make the bitch die a slow miserable death, and with that now accomplished, he had only one remaining goal: that of finding the treasure he and Will had buried long ago to take care of Gibbs, who had raised him and been the Father Jack had never known. As soon as that was done, Jack would seek his love in eternal sleep.

He had thrown Elizabeth's body to the sharks last night and had stood watching with satisfaction as they had ripped the bitch apart and swallowed her, churning the water red with her blood, but she had been already dead from his own hand! Soon they would be to the treasure, and it would all be over.

The pain in his heart had not eased despite the bitch being dead, and he reached out for his rum, drawing it to him like a long lost lover. Without opening his eyes, he took a swig, recapped the bottle, and held it to his chest. He was almost back to sleep when he heard some one in his room and in his bed!

* * *

Kurt nestled into Piotr and sighed once. He grimaced at the pain in his back but knew he had been right to have Piotr hold him. When his lips touched him, it made Kurt want to do other things to Piotr despite his pain, but he contented himself to being held by the man of his dreams.

Kurt sighed, despite the pain, Piotr's gentle caresses soothed him. When Piotr's lips burned him, he tilted his face upward hoping for another kiss, this time on his lips! He paid scant attention to the others around them and wished for a secret private place for the two of them. His fingers of his left hand caressed Piotr's back where he could reach him thankful that he was no longer in armor and that he could feel his skin next to his. What a thrill it gave him!

Delicious chills chased up and down Piotr's back and throughout the rest of his being as he stepped closer to Kurt and touched his lips down upon his. Their kiss began so gently that it was almost reverent, but then as Piotr felt Kurt's furry tail sneak around his leg and wrap around him, he deepened their kiss.

Hank glanced away from the other couple and gently caught Bobby's hand where he was tending to his wounds. "Robert, my darling, it's been so long . . . " He moaned softly.

Bobby gazed quizzically into Hank's breathtaking eyes which seemed, somehow, even bluer and sexier than he remembered them. Had the moan come from the pain in his heart from being tortured for so long, or was it from his physical pain? "Hank?" he questioned urgently.

"I am all right, my love." He squeezed his hand, then brought it to his furry lips and gently kissed it. "As long as I have your light in my darkened life again, very little indeed can harm me, but I . . . I must confess something to you, my heart."

"Whatever it is, Hank, darling, don't beat yourself up over it. Right now we need to concentrate on getting you well. Then you can tell me everything those bastards did to you, and we can go back and make sure they're dead."

Hank's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise as he finally realized why Bobby was not angry with him. He thought that he had suffered at the hands of Sinister, like the others! His fur shifted uneasily along his body. He knew he should be truthful with him, but right now there were more pressing matters. "Brendan has been taken."

For a moment, though Bobby's mouth hung open in dreadful shock, it did not work, and then he yelled, "YOU LEFT OUR SON BACK THERE?"

* * *

Lorne raced to his door, fear caught in his throat at the strange howl. He almost collided with Derek who had heard the howl and was also heading for Lorne's door. "You sneaky bastard, pretending to be so concerned about Hansel while having him in your room all the while! I thought it was you making him howl, but it must be that no-good Gypsy as you're out here!"

Derek's hand shot out, wrenching at the door, even as Lorne grabbed his hand and twisted it, pushing Derek away from the door. Derek reacted like a mad bull as he charged Lorne yelling, "I'M GOING IN THERE AND SNATCH THAT GYPSY OFF OF HIM! I'M GOING TO CUT OFF HIS DICK AND COOK IT FOR BREAKFAST; THEN I'M GONNA TIE HIM DOWN AND FEED IT TO HIM WHILE THAT GYPSY LIES THERE AND BLEEDS TO DEATH! THEY GONNA LEARN THEY CAN'T CUCKOLD DEREK!"

Lorne knocked him again, and just as determinedly yelled, "YOU AREN'T GOING IN THERE!"

Derek hit Lorne so hard that Lorne fell down, and with that, Derek wrenched the door open only to be met with a wall of flames...

* * *

Victor's green eyes flashed open. He glared around at the Fieries surrounding him, and then a scent he'd feared he might never smell so close again teased his nostrils. Victor rose his eyes and gazed at Logan in surprise while being extremely careful not to move any other inch of his still-aching body.

Logan was instantly aware of Creed's arousal. He tried not to draw attention to him by looking at him.

Jareth had stayed half owl, because he felt that the owl would be quicker on the alert. Now he was glad that he had as he became aware that the evil one was conscious. He alerted Delvira immediately. Yet he gave no outward appearance as to the fact that he now had two very dangerous snakes with which to play! He conjured up one of his own snakes, a deadly python, and tossed him immediately upon his first enemy. As the python wrapped his lethal coils around Creed, squeezing him more each second, Jareth returned his attention to his second enemy.

Creed cursed himself for having been so greenhornish as to let his shock of seeing Logan apparently defending him rob him of his senses and allow their enemy to catch him off guard. As the python squeezed around him, Victor hissed and unsheathed his claws. His deadly blades instantly began slicing the snake.

Delvira gazed more deeply into her crystal ball. How could she be sure? She refused to give her beloved husband hope without knowing for a fact who she had found. Then the simple answer came to her, and the Vampiress smiled. She drew her athame from the black, silk slash encircling her slender waist and began to cut a hole in the air. She chanted as she created her portal, and everywhere her knife touched, a bright, blue spilled out into the inky darkness.

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow almost hit his head as he tried to sit up under the bed... Thoughts tumbled through his dazed mind of the evening before when he had tumbled off the mast as a wonderful miracle had occurred... Will had been returned! It was Will sleeping in his bed!

A bleary eyed Jack crept from under the bed, and in the predawn hours, he saw nestled in his bed his own beloved Will!

If Jack could find out which God had blessed him with the return of his beloved, he would worship Him forever. He wanted to crawl into that bed and hold Will so tightly that he'd never let him go again, but his groggy mind repeated the occurrence of their earlier encounter and he realized with a sagging heart that Will would not be accepting of him now. He sat down, almost missing the lone chair in his cabin. Will clearly had lost some of his memory where Jack was concerned, but in time it would return. He would do everything that he could to help Will remember their love!

His own wretched smell assailed his nose, and he knew the first step was cleaning himself up. He could not remember when last he had bathed. He smelled of the grave, and he truly felt like a man returned from one. Rushing from their bedchamber, Jack ran to the railing and threw the bottle of rum as far as he could. Will hated rum, and so Jack had given it up. He no longer needed it for he had Will back finally and would never let him go!

* * *

The flames were real and burned hot, but when they disappeared at a soft request, only a man could be seen standing in the doorway of the room. Ice blue eyes blazed at Derek, who, unwitting to the boy watching him and still cursing, dropped to the floor and began to roll. The same blue orbs that had looked upon Derek with such fury turned a softer shade as they went to Lorne laying so still upon the floor.

"Lorne!" The blonde rushed to the Demon and fell onto his knees beside him. Soft hands gently touched him and rolled him over. One moved to gingerly caress his green cheek. "How badly did he hurt you?"

A growl came from the open bedroom, and the blonde looked toward it. "I'm coming," he assured, "but he's going to come with me. All he's trying to do is help us, and now he's been hurt because of it!" A wry grin twisted pale, pink lips as his pointed ears caught chuckling. "Yes, you did broil him pretty well, but I wish such was not needed!"

As the blonde's baby blues again dropped onto the Demon's face, they noted, for the first time, just how truly handsome he was. This was one Demon to which a heart could be lost very easily, but such could never be allowed to happen!

"I'm alright, just a bit dazed," Lorne admitted to the boy. "Thanks for helping me up. Now I'll see about that food I promised you!" He limped off to the kitchen without a single glance at Derek. He gathered a tray full of food before starting back to his room. This time when he reached the hall and looked for Derek, he saw only charred clothing in the hallway.

At his door, he kicked with his foot until it opened. He then sniffed the air and, for the first time, smelled the blood before he saw it. "Are you hurt, my friend? You never let on... I didn't realize!" He turned to look at the boy as he set the tray down on the lone table in the room. He saw so much blood it made his stomach roil from the sight.

How could the lad have gotten hurt so badly? Hurrying over to the pitcher of water on his dressing table and pouring it into the pan, he wet a cloth and began to try to clean his new friend to find the wound... He hated being so attracted to such a young boy and was fighting it as best he could, but the mere touching of the lad enflamed him...

He'd have to take a plunge in a very cold body of water soon, or the boy would soon know and recoil from him in fear. He couldn't bare that! If Elvira would just return, he could send the boy to be with her where he would be safe. {Damn you, Lorne,} he cursed himself silently. {Stop thinking how much you want him and find his wounds...}

The blonde had been on the floor when Lorne had burst back into his own bedroom. He had stayed there, crouched into the position, while he had hurried about getting ready to clean a wound that did not exist. Stroking a head that could not be seen and having his fingers licked by a tongue that was also invisible, the blonde stood once more to face the frantic Demon. Before he could do anything, Lorne was trying to bathe him. He cupped his white hands around Lorne's green ones, unaware of the chill that passed from his touch into him, and softly spoke, "Thank you for your concern, but I am fine."

"But you're bleeding!" Lorne argued. "What did that bastard do to you while I was gone? If you're fine, where is the blood coming from?"

The blonde sighed and leaned his head forward. "I thank you for your concern and for all you've done for us this night, but I really shouldn't tell you from whence the blood truly flows . . . I do not wish to repay your kindness with endangering you."

* * *

Hank grimaced. His ears laid back against his head. His eyes dropped to the ground. "No," he said weakly. "They . . . They took him from our home tonight."

Bobby eyed Hank warily, cold dread inching into his heart and curling around him like a fist as it threatened to cut off his very breath and life source. "What . . . do you mean, Hank?" When Hank was not immediately forthcoming with his answer, he pressed him harder, "What are you trying to tell me?"

A tear rolled down Hank's mournful face. "I . . . We were attacked at home tonight."

"You. Were. _Home!_" Bobby's entire world spun around him. A thousand emotions filled him at once but none brighter or stronger than the pure fury that encompassed his heart and soul, his every thought, and his very breath at the realization that the man he loved, the man whom he had spent the last twenty years mourning desperately, could have been with him but had, for some reason he could not even begin to imagine, chosen not to be and chosen instead to allow him to continue to think him dead. Bobby's hand reacted even before he could think, and the slap that followed echoed throughout the entire forest. Animals scurried from their homes. Wolves howled. Some evil beings even slunk deeper into the shadows and decided to wait another night for their main feast. And still Bobby stared at Hank with hurt, despair, anguish, sorrow, grief, and tears filling his bright, brown eyes as the group Vin and Prue had just led back stood with their mouths wide open in shock.

* * *

Green eyes blinked open into the darkness, and Salem looked around. He didn't see anything, but the ebony fur upon his back rose instinctively. There was something out there! No, some one! Some one was watching him!

He got to his feet, yawning; allowing his little, pink tongue to loll out of his mouth; and stretching leisurely. He circled around on the bed and laid down again. Stretching once more, he laid his front paws to where they were barely touching Cole's feet, and with a movement as quick as lightning, he kneaded Cole's ankle. His unblinking eyes remained focused on the Demon's face.

He didn't want to have to stick him again, but he would if he did not awaken. Whoever was watching them possessed magic and pyrokinesis, if not something greater, and he would need his loyal friend's help. He daintily sniffed the air, his black nose barely moving as he did so. There was a tinge of another aura with the Sorceress', some one familiar, some one he had not sensed in a long time, but some one whom he could not yet place.

* * *

Jack found Gibbs at the wheel and asked him to get him a towel, and soap and Gibbs thankfully went for it. Jack stripped and dived into the frigid water. Holding the soap, he lathered up and began to scrub his body vigorously, starting with his long, bejeweled hair. Jack began to hum a song to himself.

Gibbs gathered the filthy clothes and put them away for burning. Going to Jack's cabin, he found clothes for Jack. When he returned to the deck, he felt eyes upon him. Turning around, he saw Will looking at him ... "Good morning, Will!" he said with a cheery grin and realized that indeed it would be a very good morning for all concerned... the first one in what felt like forever...

Gibbs' cheery call was answered by a blade pressing against his throat. "What are ye, Demon? Shed my friend's image or I'll run ye through right now!" Will Turner vowed. His furious anger hid his fear and uncertainty well.

The previous night was still in a chaotic shambles in his memory, but this morning was the first morning that he had awakened to the gentle swaying of a ship on the water beneath him in years. Though the furnishings in the cabin had changed, he had still known the room well and the ship even better. "What new trick is this that yer murderous bitch o' a Queen be runnin'?" he demanded, his brown eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

* * *

A growl shot up around them followed by a soft, plaintive whine, but once more the other voices went unheard. He knew already that he had said too much, that his companions were right to be worried, and even the growling female had a point in her statement that they should not, and could not, trust this Demon. It was not because he was a Demon but because they had learned the hard way that they could trust no one, not even their own family outside of themselves and one other whose work constantly kept him away.

"I am sorry for the trouble we have caused you tonight, kind sir. I would not have stopped had I any other choice. I thank you for your hospitality and your kindness. Now please be reassured that the blood is not mine."

Unseen by Lorne, a small, blue fellow danced from one talon to the other. His leathery wings fanned. He cooed softly. The blonde looked to where he was pacing and shook his head once. "COO!"

The blonde lifted widened, blue eyes to Lorne's red orbs. His instincts told him that his little one had let himself be heard and were affirmed both by the fierce growl that followed and the look upon Lorne's handsome face.

* * *

Logan began growling in his throat as Jareth bounced on the balls of his feet before him, never taking his eyes off of him and remaining ready to attack at a moment's breath. Logan desperately wanted to turn and help Creed with the python but didn't dare. One false move, and they would both be done for...

Blood spattered Victor's hairy face, and he grinned, his deadly fangs shining in the full moonlight. The snake hissed a final time as his claws yanked his insides out and split his body apart. His tongue flicked out, caught a piece of snake, and sucked it into his mouth. He grinned, his green eyes gleaming, as he chewed it with relish.

Jareth had grown tired of the game a split moment before his enemy had killed his python. Waving his hand majestically in the air, Jareth changed the dead snake's pieces into an overwhelmingly huge pile of silken scarves that instantly wrapped around their target. Although Creed fought, swiftly slashing them into ribbons, those pieces continued twining around his body, attempting to cut off his breathing...

Victor's growl was cut off as the scarves closed around his throat. His fangs hissed and bit, and he felt the piece of silk that was the bite of snake he had eaten churn in his throat. He tried to cough it out, but the scarves closed even more around his neck, forcing him to shut his mouth. He continued slicing madly at the scarves, but no matter how many times he cut the things, they simply kept squeezing around him. For the first time in his life, his claws were having absolutely no effect!

Realizing that fact, the man called Sabertooth closed his eyes and began to think. He forced his body to relax, but still the scarves kept tightening their hold . . . He could no longer breathe, and his thoughts were beginning to run together and slip away into the shadows of his mind.

His eyes popped back open, and he gazed at Logan. Whatever was happening to him, he wanted to know one thing. Was the man he loved who he had abandoned him when he had chosen to give up robbing banks for the more lucrative, and easier on the soul, job of bounty hunting truly fighting for him?

He'd said he didn't love him. He'd roared at him that he could rot in Hell. He'd walked out on him and on the life they'd built together all because Victor had "gone soft" as Logan had growlingly put it. He'd needed a change after killing an innocent girl, and Logan had abandoned him when he'd needed him the most. Yet now he was fighting this Wizard for his life?

It couldn't be! He didn't deserve Logan's love or any one else's! He was a monster, and whereas he claimed to be proud of it, there still lingered the blood of a child upon his claws, a child who was dead because of him, a child whose murder he was anything but proud of . . .

His throat burned with need to call out to Logan, the only man who could ever fill his empty, black soul and the only being he had ever truly loved, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe! His thoughts were slipping away as his heart pounded in his chest! Finally his eyelids began to sink, and the darkness moved back in . . .

* * *

Bobby snatched his hand away from the white girl dressed, and raised, as an Indian so swiftly that the momentum almost knocked her off of her feet. He glared at her. "Stay out of this, Princess. It's not your concern."

"Robert," Hank spoke in a very small voice, not daring to raise his tear-filled eyes to either Bobby, Prue, or any one else in their small group, "do not retaliate your rightful anger against me upon her. Prudence, my darling beloved, whom I've no longer any right to call such, is also accurate. This is not your concern, dear girl, and he has every right to strike me, so please refrain from acting valiantly upon my behalf. I deserve no protection or acceptance for what I have done." At last he raised his soulful, blue eyes to Bobby, and all there could see the tears tracking down his furry face. "Though I do beg it."

Bobby trembled with the intensity of the emotions that flooded him, and though a part of him ached to take his love into his arms, kiss his tears away, erase his sadness, and make him happy again, the memory of the years of suffering he had barely prevailed through while thinking his love dead burned brightly in his mind and fueled his righteous fury. "HOW . . . " he demanded, his voice and body shaking, " . . . COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, HANK? HOW COULD YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME IF YOU TRULY LOVED ME? HOW COULD YOU LET ME THINK YOU WERE DEAD? FOR GODS' SAKES, BABY, WE BURIED YOU!"

"I . . . I am terribly, . . . truly, . . . desperately . . . sorry, . . . my love, more so than I . . . can ever say . . . " Hank spoke, his voice nearly a whimper. For the first time in his life, he had to rack his mind for the appropriate words and still felt himself failing to be as eloquent as the situation called for and failing even to accurately describe just how truly apologetic he was for the pain and misery he had caused his love over the years. "There . . . I . . . I felt there . . . there was no other choice . . . "

"No other choice?" Bobby repeated in stunned disbelief, his tear-filled eyes flashing with every word. "NO OTHER CHOICE? NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO CONVINCE US ALL THAT YOU WERE DEAD, LET US BURY YOU EVEN, AND STAY SILENT FOR TWENTY YEARS WHILE EVERY DAY WITHOUT YOU WAS A LIVING HELL THAT I BARELY SURVIVED? I HAVE THOUGHT OF YOU EVERY MOMENT SINCE YOUR SUPPOSED DEATH, MISSED YOU, ACHED FOR YOU, YEARNED FOR YOU WITH A BLINDING PAIN THAT ALMOST CAUSED ME TO TAKE MY OWN LIFE MORE TIMES THAN I CAN COUNT, AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS THAT YOU'RE _SORRY_! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING ALL THIS TIME, HANK?"

* * *

The Queen ran her pale, delicate fingers across her prisoner's cheek and over his lips as her pupilless, black eyes bored into his red orbs. "What do you know of this Salem?"

"I know he was a great Wizard," he answered, "who tried t' take over de world but failed 'cause o' de Council. Dey stripped him o' his powers, turned him into a cat, an' gave him t' de Spellmans. He's been a pain in their side ever since."

"Where is he now?" the Queen demanded.

The man grinned. "I know right where he is an' can deliver him t' ya . . . fer a price."

Her black eyes shot wide and then filled with flashing, hungry fury. "You come here," she spoke, her anger building with each word, "to tell me you know of Salem and to offer him to me, the Queen who can snap your spineless back with barely a thought and without ever touching you, for a _price_?"

"'Course, cherie. You see, dat's how we thieves work . . . "

She slapped him. Her fingernails cut his skin and drew blood. His head hung for a moment before he turned back to face her again. "'Course we can always discuss de price later, ma petite . . . "

"The price for your foolish ignorance shall be paid now," she announced, "and in full!" She had found his looks charming, but his ignorance boiled the blood inside her stomach. She stepped away from him and threw up her hands.

"Chere, we can talk . . . " The man called Gambit never got a chance to finish what he had began as he went up in flames immediately. Helvira smiled as his final screams echoed through her castle.

"Pity . . . " Helvira mused a moment after Gambit's ashes had rained down upon her castle's stone floor. "He could have been fun to toy with like a mouse." She shrugged as she returned to her throne. Turning back around, she clapped her hands once, and the room was instantly filled with evil beings of all types.

Her emotionless, black eyes looked at each group in turn as she made her decree. "You will go this night to the place from whence this man came, this saloon of Blanche Deveraux's, in Los Almas, and you will bring me back the cat, Salem Saberhagen!"

Whispers rang throughout her gathered audience.

"Yes," she acknowledged them, "_the_ Salem Saberhagen! He has returned, and we shall have him to do my bidding! Now go!" Her hands flung out, her fingernails pointing at the open windows and gateway. "GO!"

They spilled out into the night, flying and running as fast as they could go. On all their minds was one thought: They would bring the Wizard back to their Mistress and be richly rewarded for his capture so that when the world belonged to their Queen, which it surely would one night soon, they would want for nothing and perhaps even rule their own part of her kingdom!

**To Be Continued . . . **


	34. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-three**

Cole's eyes flashed open in the dark room and looked straight into Salem's eyes. He sniffed the air. Something was definitely afoot! He knew not what or whom. Yet he could smell some one, and they were close.. too close...! He moved to a crouching position and waited, the hairs on his arms stuck out... If they were after his beloved Salem, they'd have to come through him first!

Salem had began to take a bath to soothe his lovely coat of jet black fur back into place when Cole had jumped into a defensive position at the foot of their bed. He shook his head slightly at Cole's eagerness to give away the fact that they knew of their intruder. It had certainly been too long since the kind Demon had been in his capable paws.

Then the portal appeared in their bedroom in a bright flash of blue light, and every single strand of Salem's fur immediately puffed back out. He jumped from the bed and sailed to the floor behind Cole as the Sorceress stepped into their bedroom, still holding her athame. Salem blinked in surprise, jerked his head back, and looked again. She looked just like Elvira, but he'd not known that Elvira possessed such magicks!

Cole looked at the woman who had appeared in their midst, blinked, rubbed his eyes to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, and stared at her again. "Elvira?" It had to be her! She was such a beautiful and helpful person, but he'd never have guessed that she had the kind of power that she now radiated. Just what was she, and why was she pretending to be a simple but very hot singer in Blanche's saloon? Had she now, after having been so helpful in the rescue of Salem, decided to return and collect the bounty that was on both their heads? He watched her carefully...

Delvira's black lips curved upwards into a big, seductive smile. So her sister knew this tall, dark, and muscular stranger! The world really was a small place, after all. Perhaps discovering the answers she needed would be easier than she had thought. "Hello again, handsome!" she crooned. "I just had to get back to you guys in a hurry. You won't believe what I heard!" she exclaimed, laughing. "It's the most ridiculous thing! Blanche is looking for Salem, because she thinks he has magic!" She apprehensively watched their reactions while keeping the perfect mask of her sister in place.

Salem sighed but made no advancement toward the Sorceress. His long, ebony tail swished. "I had magic," he softly admitted as he thought of all that he had lost and ached to be again the Wizard that he had been before the blasted Council had cursed him for only trying to save the world.

* * *

Gibbs did not move. He was used to Jack having a bad temper in the mornings, but at least his boy had never pulled a blade on his throat! Alas, but poor Will was still not himself, and he was afraid that Jack would be in for more heartache before convincing Will that they were in truth who they said they were!

The lad was ranting about some Queen, and Gibbs knew not who it could be. "Now, lad," he tried to reason with him, "there be no need of a sword on poor Gibbs nor Jack when he returns. We mean you no harm; we have nothing but love for you in our hearts. Who is this Queen you speak of? She is not here nor do we know her..."

His voice trailed off as he heard the unmistakable whistle of his son, Jack, returning and looking for him as he had not returned with his clothes... He wanted to warn him, but even as he wondered how he could with Will's sword pressed against his throat, a dripping wet Jack climbed onto the ship, jumped to the deck, turned around, and looked at Will with a surprised look on his face... Of all the things to be faced with he had not expected Will to be holding Gibbs hostage... !

Slowly walking around the pair, into his cabin, and over to his desk, Jack picked up a paring knife and slowly sliced a small piece of chocolate off of a piece of brownie. Laying the knife slowly back down, he walked back to within arm's length of Will and offered the piece to him. "Your favorite!"

He stood dripping wet, the water glistening on his chest invitingly to Will, hoping Will would release Gibbs, take the chocolate, and that they could get on with their lives. It had been three months that Will had been dead to them. Could he have lost his memories of them during that time? Could they help him remember? Jack was willing to do anything Will wanted of him... if only Will did want him again!

* * *

Hank's answer was barely heard. Seemingly endless rivers of tears poured down both men's faces as they literally shook before each other and yet dared not touch one another. Hank's thick, blue fur shivered along his muscular, bleeding body as he answered, his voice barely a whisper even to his own superior hearing, "Hiding. Like a fool."

Still Bobby was not thinking straight, and he reacted impulsively as he slapped Hank again. "DAMN RIGHT YOU WERE BEING A FOOL!"

Vin grimaced and turned his head away. He felt the pink boy in his arms shivering. He saw Rahne holding the catgirl's head against her breast, noted the way Falisha's ears were laid against her head and her tail was tucked between her legs, and realized that the lovers' fight was scaring the children even as he felt the other little boy grasp his leg. Vin bent, swooped the green lad up into his free arm, and silently carried both away from the unraveling ordeal.

Piotr stood with his arms around Kurt and his compassion for the two hurt lovers etched plainly across his face. The Ruskie's mind whirled with questions from the conversation he had heard, but he knew it was not his place to intervene. Thus he stood silently with his own love, thankful that they had been given each other and did not have any such problems weighing upon them. A smile chased over his lips as he felt the triangular, pointed tip of Kurt's tail brush reassuringly against his ankles.

Prue was indignant and shocked; her mouth fell open. As she listened to Bobby's words, she realized just how badly Hank had treated her own Mother! How many times had she watched helplessly as her Mother had cried for Hank, the man who had been her Father? Hell, if she had been older, she might have taken losing him just as hard instead of barely remembering him!

She looked from one man to the other, both hurting and crying. Memories started flooding her mind of when she had been little playing with a boy who was her age. She saw again two men laughing in the sunlight, chasing them and hugging them when they had caught them. What had happened to the boy? Where was he; had he become just another of the wronged beings involved in this awfulness?

Hank was not the only one who had done wrong to them. So had Bobby! He had gone away and turned his back on her and their people as though they no longer existed! She had blocked them out of her mind, but now everything was crystal clear to her. She screamed her outrage and then slapped not only Hank but Bobby as well right after Bobby had just hit Hank.

* * *

Lorne looked at the boy before speaking. "I will help you if I can. You do not need to fear that I will give you or your companions away or harm you in any way. What is your name? I hate to keep calling you boy. If you let me see them, I may be able to help even more. My name is Lorne."

"Crys Frost," the blonde replied. "I do thank you for your help, Lorne, and this might sound crazy, especially in the sight of this blood, but you need not worry. My . . . friend is well healed now and need only rest to complete her recovery." He suddenly felt the urge to yawn himself and silenced it by pressing a closed fist against his mouth.

"Hey!" he protested sharply and looked down to where he could see a long, tawny tail lashing at his legs. "I'm sorry, but it's not like he's seen you. You already knew he was here," he gently reminded his annoyed companion. "You know Demons have a wonderful sense of smell." He glanced back up at Lorne with a gentle smile. "No offense."

"None taken, Crys. Come sit down and eat; you will sleep better for it! There is only water to drink, but it's clean and cool." He watched him carefully less he show signs of weakness. Lorne wondered who was chasing the kid and vowed to make sure that they never caught him.

"If you're sure that you are all right, I will go to bed. I find I can barely keep my eyes open."

He smiled warmly at him. He was both surprised and relieved that he was not attempting to pressure him into revealing any of their guarded secrets. He would like so much to be able to openly trust this Demon, but even if he dared to trust him, doing so would put his very life in danger. He refused to endanger him any further than he already had and silently promised to leave as soon as his friend had rested enough.

"I thank you again," he said with a sweet smile, "but I am certain. Go and rest. You look like you've had a hard day, and with a jerk like that Derek, I am certain you must have endured one. I will . . . " He glanced dubiously at the bed. " . . . join you shortly." He blushed at the mere sound of the words.

Lorne pulled the top blanket from his bed, rolled it lengthwise, and placed it in the middle of the bed. Smiling at the lad, he lifted his side and climbed in after taking everything but his pants off. "Unfortunately, Derek is a big pain in the rear. He makes everybody's life harder than it needs to be."

"See ya in the morning, but should you need anything, wake me. I don't mind." Lorne stifled a yawn, stretching slowly, and then lay his head down on the pillow. Shutting his eyes he found his mind racing after the lad and wishing that Elvira would get home soon. He continued watching the boy through slitted eyelids.

* * *

"Please Don't kill him!" Logan pleaded with the silky stranger before him. "Spare his life, and I will do anything you ask of me!" He fell to his knees beside Creed, ripping and tearing at the silken bandages to no avail. It was as though his claws were nonexistent for all the good they were doing him. "I swear I will obey your command if you will only spare him..." His heart was beaten so loudly that it was pounding in his ears...

Jareth could not stand all of the carnage that had gone on this night. He had had enough and couldn't think clearly. He needed time and space... With a slow wave of his gloved and feathered hand, both Logan and Creed disappeared from his sight as he sent them to the deepest, darkest oubliette in the land of the Bog of Eternal Stench, there to wait for his judgement...

Turning at long last to his wife, he was not surprised that she had opened a portal. "Get her," he commanded, flicking a hand toward the charred remains of the girl his Fieries called their sister. Jareth could not even begin to fathom how in the universe any one outside of the Labyrinth could have become friends, let alone such close friends, with his bizarre and delightfully wild Fieries, but it wasn't important. It was the lives they had lost that night, the fact that a being the Fieries considered to be one of their own still lay dying, and the possibility that they might yet be able to save her were what was important. "We will follow Delvira."

The remaining Fieries scurried to take their Faith through the portal before it closed...

In the pitch, black darkness of the place where they had been condemned to, Victor's wild, green eyes again flashed open. He had heard Logan's voice as he had laid dying, and the realization that the man he loved still loved him despite everything they had gone through and all that they had said and done to each other had renewed his strength and very life. Gazing into Logan's eyes with love shining in his own, Victor began once more to rip at the scarves, and with their Master gone and no longer interested in controlling them, the silken fragments finally fell easily away.

* * *

The second Gnome had just awakened. Upon hearing the Hunter's name, he screamed in mortal agony and tried to hide under his partner. The first Gnome continued to look at the blonde man as he tried to console his buddy. He finally spoke. "Once, long ago, we lived above ground. We were many. We were happy. Then he came. He hunted us, killed us..."

"Now we live underground, and we are few. Bob and Harry are our family. We can not disobey Bob. We can not free you. We can not free us. Bob will come in morning."

While the Gnome had been talking, a thick vine had been trailing slowly down into the dungeon. It came down between Jack and Hansel as a large screech filled the room. Jack looked up at the window. An enormous bald eagle perched there, pushing the vine with his talon. Slowly it continued down, and Jack twittered his thanks.

As soon as he could reach the vine, Jack gave it a tug to be sure it would hold. "Hansel, my love, rescue is at hand! Come, and we will soon leave this place behind." The Gnomes raced for the vine, but Jack snatched them off and tossed them a little way from them. "You will stay here," he told them, "and not alert the others." They gave him mean looks but did not attempt to climb again.

Hansel gave the Gnomes a pitying look. The one's story of how they had lost so many of their family rang too closely to his own past. "I'm sorry," he told them sincerely, "but if you are freed, you will call for your family. We can't let that happen. We have to get away from here or the Hunter will come here after us and kill what remains of your family. None of us would want that."

He forced himself to turn away from their sorrowful looks and to the vine. His fingers brushed Jack's as he took hold of the vine. He leaned into him and brushed his lips softly over his. "See you at the top, love." A grin burst over the blonde man's handsome face, and he winked at his beloved. "This time I'll be on top first." He began to climb.

Tonto whinnied; shook his head; tossed his long, white mane; and stomped his hooves into the dirt. His ears were busily twitching back and forth for he could hear the Gnomes awakening from their friend's scream and beginning to head their way. He whickered down to Hansel and then tossed the big birds holding the vine a look from his brown eyes. He should be rescuing Hansel, not some loud-mouthed, squawking birds! He snorted in disgust but had to admit, in his heart, that he was glad his best friend was being freed, no matter the means.

* * *

Will stared through wide, brown eyes at the dripping and completely naked Pirate offering him chocolate. His eyes betrayingly dropped, for the briefest of moments, to the rising bulge between the sexy man's strong, tanned legs. He gulped and snatched his eyes back to his face. He had watched him climb onto the deck and move across the ship, all while keeping his blade tight against the throat of the thing who could only be a Demon for the true Gibbs, who had always been a very dear and beloved friend to him, almost like a second father, was long dead and never once lightening his grip.

"What kind of a game is this?" he demanded. Sadness flickered in his brown eyes as he glanced at the creature that wore Gibbs face for a mask. "Did ye honestly think I'd forget ye slaughtered me family? I know not who this other Pirate is supposed to be, but I saw ye monsters kill me own Gibbs with me very eyes!" Painful misery swelled again within his heart at the awful memories that had haunted every moment of his life since his family had been massacred.

Every moment that he could remember, at least. Just what in the blue blazes had happened last night? How had he been taken? He remembered a cat . . . and a glowing tree . . . a man wearing a top hat . . . and some kind of vial . . . But that was all and surely could not explain the situation to which he'd awakened. These things had to be Demons. That was all there was for it for Gibbs was dead. He'd seen him die himself! "What are ye?" he demanded again.

Jack lowered his hand when Will made no attempt to take the chocolate. He stood, taking in the words of anguish and realizing that Will had come back not only from the dead but from another world as well... In his world, Jack did not exist, and Gibbs was dead. As reality sank in, Jack's heart broke yet again, because despite having the face and body of his Will, this was not his Will! How to reason with him? Jack pondered. His mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way to get Gibbs free.

The truth would be the best gift he could give the boy. It would set Gibbs free and would kill him in the process. If it were to be, it would be, Jack reasoned as he turned to face the both of them. If he could not have Will, then he wanted to be dead, and this was as good a way to die as any. He had already left a letter leaving Gibbs the Pearl; he would have to find the treasure on his own..

"Will, you are from another time and place; I don't know how you came to be here. I thought They had had pity on us and returned you to us, but I see that you are not returned from the dead but only another lost soul that meandered your way into Hell. Gibbs is alive and real in this world, but I am dead already and in Hell. I am the reason you are here, the monster you have come to slay... "

"Leave him be. He is an old man and deserves to live until he dies of natural causes. If you must run some one through, kill your demon... Come, here I am... waiting..." He stood with his hands open, making no effort to defend himself.

Gibbs looked at Jack with tears in his eyes. "Don't do this, Jack!" he pleaded, knowing his words fell on deaf ears...

* * *

The boy's startled ice blue eyes had watched Lorne's every move as he had prepared for bed. He had felt a strange fire burning within him as Lorne had shed out of his shirt and exposed his chest. He was, by no means, a particularly muscular specimen of the male species, but his body was drawn in lithely muscles by his years spent dancing. The fire had surged from somewhere deep within Crys and built to a full-blown roar by the time he'd picked up the blankets and crawled into the bed. "Sweet dreams," he barely managed to say with a straight face before turning around.

The blonde waited, daintily partaking of the food, nibbling a biscuit here and a piece of dried meat there, for Lorne to fall asleep. When his breathing had slowed and long after the last words he had spoken, he finally turned around again. He had eaten barely a few bites and yet took only the largest piece of meat and set the plate, with all the rest of the food, down upon the floor. As it began being ravishingly chewed by invisible creatures, he stood, walked silently across the floor, and knelt down upon the hard, wood surface. There he stroked a sad, furry head that none but four could see and fed the animal from his fingers. When she had finished the food, he lowered himself further, kissed her head, buried his face into her thick, gray fur, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, darling! I love you!"

He was rewarded by eager licks and a voice that whimpered back, "*I love you too!*"

Then two pieces of food, one a biscuit and the other another, smaller piece of meat, seemed to float through the very air. Crys watched as her other two companions fed the one who had been hurt that night but was now miraculously healed. He drew out a necklace from his shirt and fingered a blue crystal, intricately shaped into a snowflake, in thought as the wolf ate.

Then his other friends turned to him and began butting his hands with their heads. Crys turned his head back in silent laughter, a smile breaking out over his face that had darkened with worry and sadness. He was quickly being rolled by the two while the third looked on and wagged her tail happily.

Lorne kept his breathing regular like he was really sleeping. He was not a snorer, so therefore, it didn't occur to him to fake one. Through slitted eyes, he kept watching the scene that played out before him. He knew they didn't know he was watching and was glad that Crys felt free enough to enjoy the food with his friends, whoever they were.

Lorne would tell no one of what he was seeing, not even his best friend, Elvira. He figured it must be Leprechauns, Elves, or maybe even Fairies! He wished that he could tell them they were safe with him, but they'd find it out soon enough when he kept their secret.

He watched the lad play with the beings and longed for the lad's fingers to play on him as they were playing with those he couldn't see. Why was he being so drawn to the lad, who was a mere slip of one; why did he want him? Lorne usually had his pick of grown stallions, so why was he in such need of a colt?

He felt his loins tighten even more as he watched their frisky gamboling in his room. He needed something freezing cold to dampen his ardor but did not want to disturb the play he was watching. He hoped that his tight pants would not burst at the seams. Elvira had bought them for him, and she always wanted tight leather that showed her men's assets off. Now he felt that he was encased in a tight glove that was steadily shrinking!

Crys laid, stretched out on the floor, with his friends around him. Although they remained invisible to Lorne, and any one else who might have popped into the room, he could see them as clearly as he could see his own body if he were to glance down at himself. One lay with her head in his lap while the male curled beside him, softly cooing. "What is it, baby?" he asked the female who had grown discontented again.

Green eyes from a curious, furry face focused on Lorne's bed. "He's innocent," Crys spoke. "He means us no harm. He already proved that, and he's not trying to force our secrets out." The blonde then cocked his head as he listened to his friend's response. He raised a single eyebrow and glanced at the bed. "Even if he is, he means us no harm." He shook his head slightly as his friend padded closer to the bed, her long, tawny tail swishing in the air.

She approached the bed with caution, her fur raising on her back. She sniffed Lorne's hand where it dangled slightly off of the bed, then tugged at the sheet with her mouth.

* * *

Although Will was inexplicably moved by the stranger's bold and heartrending speech, it was the tears in Gibbs' eyes that caused him to lower his sword. He knew he should not lower his defenses around these Demons. He knew they had to be Demons, and yet . . . Yet he could not bare to face the pain in the eyes of the man who had cared for and loved him as his son, just as much as his true father had, and his heart also ached for the other man. "This . . . makes no sense . . . " he mumbled, shaking his head and backing away from the both of them.

"Where are ye going, Will? Ye're on the Pearl; do ye remember her? I will not hold ye back. Ye're free to go, but there's nowhere to go!"

Once released, Gibbs had ran to the other side of the room, trying to be out of the way so that they could talk to each other. He did not know what to do to save Jack or Will. He didn't want to lose either of them. He had never felt so lost or depressed. He knew Jack would not make it if he lost this Will too, but he couldn't help either of them as he had no answers. Just a broken heart and a very hopeful prayer on his lips...

He had no intentions of leaving Jack alone so he could do himself in, and if Will tried to kill him, he would step in between them. He must mean something to Will even if only because he was Gibbs and the twin of Will's Gibbs. He tried to remember what Jack had read to him out of a book once about parallel worlds, but his shaken mind refused to impart the knowledge.

Looking lost, Jack sat down on the chair. His gamble had only worked half way. Why had the boy freed Gibbs but neglected to kill him? He did not once think of getting dressed...

Will's brown eyes flashed defiantly at the naked Pirate. "Remember her?" he repeated in disbelief. "Of course I remember her! I was born on her!" His sword flashed through the air but did not yet make any further threatening gestures at either of the men he believed to be Demons. "If he was the real Mister Gibbs, he'd know that well and true!"

But then, wouldn't the Demons know it? Will puzzled. If there was one thing that could be said about the Huntsman and his Queen it was that they seemed to know their targets' every move. Why was there not a Demon here masquerading to be his father? Will frowned. And why the Hell couldn't he remember what had happened last night?

Suddenly the world began to spin about the Pirate, and he shook his head as if to throw the feeling away from him. "Stay out o' me head!" he demanded, cutting through the empty air again with his sword. Yet, dizzy as he was, Will noted that neither of the Demons he could see had moved.

His brown eyes narrowed at the naked one. "Why send ye," he wondered aloud, "an' not one lookin' to be me Father?" They would have stood a much better chance of convincing him that they were not Demons had his father been amongst them, but alas his father was every bit as dead, and just as long sent to Davy Jones' locker, as his truthfully dear Mister Gibbs!

Gibbs looked at Will. "Yer Father's been dead a long time, lad. Jack and me, we're not Demons, and we're not messing wit' yer head." He moved slowly to where he had dropped Jack's clothes when Will had grabbed him. He then tossed them to Jack and waited for Jack to respond.

Jack ignored the clothes; he had not taken his eyes off Will the whole time. His mind couldn't seem to grasp the idea that Will was not his Will, so he kept waiting for the real Will to present himself though knowing that he probably wouldn't...

"Ye can't be," Will said softly, shaking his head. Despair shone in his brown eyes that sparkled like two shimmering pools. "I saw ye die, Gibbs! I held ye in me arms when ye were breathing yer last, an' then Da . . . He made me leave!" he cried. "I didn't want ta leave ye all, but he made me leave, an' just before he threw me overboard, I saw him get killed! That damn Hunter shot him straight through the heart!"

* * *

Jack watched a most tantalizing behind wagging in his face all the way up. {Mmm! Banquet with most delicious buns, won't be long, but too long for me!} He wanted to reach out and stroke them now but would have to wait... Heat raced through his veins...

When they finally reached the top, he turned and began pulling the vine up. He had to shake the Gnomes off as they were climbing up! Several of the smaller birds flew down and pecked at their hands until they finally let go and fell to the ground... When the vine was completely out, Jack thanked each of the birds in their language. "*I am in your debt my friends. Ask, and I will do what I can for you!*"

"*Not today,*" the eagle told him, "*but one day I may have need of you!*"

"*Remember me!*"

With that, they all flew away, leaving Hansel and Jack alone with Tonto.

* * *

Every one was finally fast asleep at Blanche's when the door was ripped off by a massive, hulking figure. The Troll lumbered its way into the saloon and bellowed out, "SALEM!"

The racket instantly awakened all but the heaviest of sleepers. A couple of the women had fallen asleep at the bar. They screamed at the sight of the monster, ran through the kitchen, and out the back door only to be confronted by more monsters straight out of their nightmares. They screamed again, ran back through the kitchen, and started to go into the bar room only to find that it was now full of monsters. They flew into each other's arms and huddled there for a moment, screaming their heads off, until one of the Trolls looked directly at them. Then, still screaming all the while, they dove for cover underneath the nearest table.

"What in the world is going on down there?" Blanche cried.

"I don't know," D answered, "but I aim to find out." D picked up the gunbelt looped around Blanche's bedpost and put it on.

"Be careful," Blanche warned her lover.

"Always, when I got a pretty, little lady like you to come back to." D tipped a hat to her and then headed out. D got as far as the staircase before one look at the teaming mass of nightmarish beings down below sent the gunslinger running straight back to Blanche.

Blanche's brow furrowed in confusion as she watched D latching the door and pushing all the furniture against it. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting us. There's monsters down there!"

"Monsters?" Blanche repeated in disbelief. "Monsters aren't real, shugah! They've got on some kind o' bad makeup, is all."

"I'm tellin' ya, woman, they're monsters!"

"Move aside," she commanded, sashaying to the door.

"You're not going out there."

"Yes, Ah am! This is mah saloon, an' if there's monsters or anythin' else threatenin' it, they're not gonna get away wit' it! Who's this Salem they keep shoutin' to come down there any way?"

"I don't know."

"Then find out after ya move this stuff off the door!"

"You're crazy!"

Blanche smiled at D and fluttered her eyelashes. "No more so than you, darlin'." She drew serious again as she commanded, "Now get it moved!"

* * *

Logan reached out and tenderly stroked Creed's face. "Long time, no see. Out o' sight but not my mind or my heart! I tried to leave yer no account ass behind, but my memories wouldn't let me do it."

Victor smiled as he gazed into Logan's eyes. He knew they could both hear his roaring heartbeat. He stroked his hand gently before covering it with his own hand and entwining his fingers with his. "So," he asked, unashamed for the first time in his life of the unshed tears glittering in his primal, green eyes, "where do we go from here?" He took a deep breath and then plunged dead ahead, "I still love ya, runt. I never stopped."

And indeed he hadn't. He had tried every trick he knew to get over him, but Logan was a part of him. He was a part of his heart, his soul, his very essence more than his claws, his feralness, or anything else that made Victor Victor. His world, life, and being had been empty without him, and now, ever so slowly, they were beginning to surge back to life from the simple and miraculous fact that Logan still loved him. He didn't know how in the world he'd ever gotten so lucky as to be blessed with his lasting love, but if he ever figured out Who was responsible for it, he'd grovel before Them in gratitude like a wet puppy.

"Victor, I've missed ya! Fer all th' mess yer've caused, yer still in my heart...Why can't ya control yer temper more? Why did ya have to kill those creatures? I fear we'll never get outta here. If, by some miracle, we make it out of here alive, I don't wanna lose ya again! I want ya t' come back with me, give up this madness that drove us apart in th' first place, an' we'll make a family with my girls. We'll be unstoppable!" His hand continued stroking Victor's face caressingly, his eyes showing Victor all the love he had bottled up inside only for him...

As Logan had rattled on, Victor's anger had slowly built until now he pushed him away, rolled to his feet, and began to pace their earthen cage. "Why is it always th' same with ya, runt? Come back, be a thief again, I can only love ya if yer stealin'!" He whirled on him, his green eyes flashing with the primal rage of both the man who yearned for the man he loved to truly love him in return and the predator whose anger had been riled up. "An' I didn't kill the damn things unprovoked! They attacked me first!" he snarled.

"That might not matter to ya," he continued, "but ya know damn well it does to me! I don't kill innocents! At least, I never did until that damn robbery went wrong! Ya just let it go like that girl's death wan't nothin' t' ya, but it burned me! It still does! I didn't mean t' kill th' kid, but she's dead 'cause she got in th' way o' my damn claws an' temper at th' wrong fuckin' time! Those critters, whatever th' Hell they were, attacked me! They deserved what they got, but she didn't!"

He turned away so that his ex-lover would not see the tears in his eyes, tears that shamed him as they threatened to fall from his eyes that he had clawed at countless times, just trying to get them to stop their blasted crying, after he'd lost Logan because of his own foolish weakness. "I know ya think I'm damn weak 'cause o' it, but I can't help th' way I feel, Logan! I've tried! I've tried t' get rid o' her face as I gutted her an' yer face when ya told me that I wan't worth a crap 'cause I couldn't get over it an' ya didn't want me any more if I couldn't be th' man ya fell in love with!"

He whirled on him, his fangs snarling and flashing in the darkness as he concluded, "An' I'm still that man, Logan! Ya just seein' more o' th' damn heart in me than I wanna let out, but I ain't got a choice! I keep seein' her an' ya! Every time I shut my eyes, there ya are again, ya not lovin' me 'cause I ain't strong enough an' her dyin' 'cause I wan't fast enough to stop my blow before my claws went into her gut, an' there ain't a damn thing I can do 'bout it!"

* * *

"You both went away and never came back! You didn't love me after all; you didn't want me any more! I tried to be good, 'cause I didn't want to lose you!" Heartbroken sobs racked her body. "I had two Fathers, and you both left me!" Tears ran down her face, uncontrolled . "Did you throw Brendan away too?"

Hank continued to hang his furry head in shame and barely looked up when snow began to fall down in large, fat drops like the tears rolling down Bobby's anguished face. "No," Hank spoke, "he had nowhere else to go. He was stolen from me tonight by creatures most vile and evil." He did not elaborate for fear that she might realize that his beloved son was the same man as the Werewolf that the Troll had captured and dragged away.

"Tell her the rest, Hank," Bobby urged. "Tell her how you could run out on us! Tell her how you could destroy our lives, destroy our whole worlds!" He glanced at Prue. "I left you at your mother's request. She told me to stop coming and to start a new life for me, but she should have known," he said, shaking his brunette head miserably, "as I did that there was no life for me without the man I love."

He looked back to Hank. "AND YET YOU LEFT ME! You left us all but Brendan." He gasped as he realized that Brendan, too, must have kept Hank's secret. "YOU EVEN MADE OUR SON LIE TO ME! THAT'S WHY HE TOLD ME I COULD STOP COMING. HE DIDN'T NEED ME ANY MORE, BECAUSE HE HAD YOU AND THE MORE I STAYED AROUND THE HOUSE, THE MORE LIKELY I WAS TO SEE YOUR BIG, BLUE ASS!"

Hank spoke quietly, heartbroken misery etched in his every syllable. "It is enormous," he agreed, "and blue and furry. You deserved better."

"I DESERVE A MAN WHO WOULD HAVE LOVED ME ENOUGH TO STAND BY MY SIDE, HANK! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THAT MAN, BUT YOU CHOSE NOT TO BE! YOU CHOSE TO MAKE ME - TO MAKE US ALL THINK THAT YOU HAD BEEN KILLED IN THE EXPLOSION IN YOUR LABORATORY! JUST TELL ME ONE THING," HE BEGGED. "IF YOU EVER LOVED ME, TELL ME WHY YOU DID IT. TELL ME WHY YOU STOLE MY REASON FOR LIVING AWAY FROM ME, HOW YOU COULD HAVE LIVED THESE LAST TWENTY YEARS WHILE LETTING ME THINK THAT YOU WERE DEAD AND YET NEVER LOVED ME ENOUGH TO TELL ME THE TRUTH AND EASE THE PAIN THAT'S SURROUNDED ME EVER SINCE THE DAY I PUT YOU IN THE GROUND!"

"I . . . I was afraid," Hank said, looking down at his hands. He turned his palms upright and extended his claws. "I am a monster now, Bobby. That explosion in the laboratory all those years ago made me into what you see before you now."

"You're not a monster, Hank. At least not in the way you think." Bobby struggled within himself. Part of him wanted to go to Hank, even if he had to crawl through broken glass on his hands and knees, but the fury that raged through him at the years of their lives that Hank's stupidity had stolen refused to allow him to even so much as reach out and touch the man who had single-handedly destroyed everything they'd had.

"The man I see before me . . . " Bobby continued, struggling to talk through his tears and gasps of heart-wrenching pain, "is every bit as handsome as the man I fell in love with. I never knew blue could look so good until I saw it on you. But he's also the man who claimed to love me and ripped apart my heart and soul, made me want to die, has made me want to die for the last twenty years of suffering with a pain worse than anything I could have ever imagined before he lied to me, turned my whole world upside down, and faked his death, who killed a part of me that I . . . that I . . . I don't know if I can ever get back . . . "

Bobby whimpered, and Hank finally dared to raise his soulful, blue eyes to look into the anguished, tear-filled orbs of the man he loved. "Bobby . . . "

"No . . . " Bobby said, shaking his head and stumbling back. "I can't stay here right now, Hank . . . not with you . . . not knowing you could have been here . . . with me . . . all these years . . . and chose to put me through . . . such . . . such a He - . . . Hell . . . I love you . . . I'll always love you! But I can't . . . I can't do this right now . . . " He turned and fled, and though Hank bounded after him, screaming his name and telling him how infinitely much he'd always loved and would always love only him, it did him no good as a circular board of ice formed underneath Bobby's feet and carried him away into the snow-spilling sky.

Hank fell to his knees in the mounting snow, howling and crying . . . He had destroyed every one he'd ever loved, and now when at last he'd seen the error of his ways, he might never get them back. He could live without Ororo and Prue. He could even learn to live without Brendan. But he could not live without Bobby, and yet he himself had forced his love to live without him and their love for the last two decades! His misery echoed throughout the forest, and though Bobby heard him in the sky, he dared not turn back around . . . He fell onto his board of ice, curled on his side, and sobbed out what little remained of his heart.

**To Be Continued . . . **


	35. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-four**

Prue's eyes kept staring after the spot she had last seen Bobby disappear. "He loved me and Brendan both, Hank, yet he let Mother send him away? Why?" She dashed the tears angrily from her eyes.

How she longed to be at home safe with her Mother well so that she could ask her questions and get truths! She would make things better. Her heart ached for both her Fathers, but she didn't know what to do to help them or to ease the pain in her heart.

Snow was falling all around. Alarm filled her. They must seek shelter, or they would all freeze. She looked around the small group only to realize that Vin and Rahne had carried the children away for the first time. Shock and panic reflected on Kurt's and Piotr's faces. Speaking loudly enough that she hoped the others would hear her and come, Prue said, "We must seek shelter from this storm, or we will all freeze. Hank, isn't your house close to here?"

"It is," Hank answered softly when he had finally stopping howling. He forced himself to his feet and dragged his hands over his eyes in a futile attempt to stop his tears that kept falling in as great a number as the snow surrounding them. "Take them on to the house, Prue. I'll be along." He barely glanced at her as he whispered, "And for what it's worth, if indeed it merits anything at all, I am sorry for the pain through which I've put you." He hobbled away into the snow, his head sinking back down though he could never reach the bottommost depths of his own personal Hell to which his heart had now dropped from his beloved Bobby's abandonment.

She barely had time to react to his words before he was gone! "We must get to Hank's house and out of this weather. There is no telling when it will stop. Follow me, every one."

Kurt, leaning on Piotr heavily, hobbled along as best he could, his tail wrapped around Piotr's waist for extra stability.

Piotr smoothly lifted Kurt into his arms and followed Prue. He glanced back once and saw that Rahne and Vin were coming with the children carried in their arms. Rahne had been paying just enough attention to their conversation to know when they began to move again and so had alerted Vin that they needed to follow them.

Vin shook his head in silent amazement. The boys were never going to believe this! Catching a snowflake in his hand and gazing at it through blue eyes full of wonder, he shook his head again and silently admitted that he wasn't sure if he truly believed it or not. In fact, part of him even now was waiting to wake up!

* * *

Will began to pace as snatches of memories from the previous night flickered through his mind. Each was as impossible to keep in his mind as it was to keep grains of sand in his hands without eventually having them seep through his weary fingers. "An' he shot me last night," he muttered. "And I hadn't been too long gotten the arrow out when I came across somethin' weird in th' woods . . . a man . . . a man in a top hat and a talkin' cat . . . There was a door way . . . in a tree . . . " He shook his head. "That can't be right!"

He sensed movement behind him and whirled, his sword at the ready and eyes filled with wild desperation.

Gibbs listened to Will while keeping an eye on Jack, who was finally pulling his pants on while still seemingly oblivious to both Will and Gibbs. "My poor boy's not been right in the head since the night we lost ye, Will. A mean, coldhearted bitch stabbed ye in the heart. Ye literally bled to death while Jack held ye, weeping unashamedly because of his love fer ye. We had to pry ye from his arms after ye died to bury ye. Yet here ye stand in the flesh, alive and well but not knowing us! I don't know what's going on here, but I think maybe we've all been given a second chance to live and be together again!"

"This man with the hat, he must be some kind o' Sorcerer who has worked a spell on us," Gibbs continued. "I ask meself why, but no answer comes. What could he have gained from it?"

"I don't know." Will frowned as he continued to warily watch the men who he was slowly beginning to consider might not be the Demons he'd originally thought them. "But if ye were Demons, an' this was one o' her prisons, she'd have me Dad here. I . . . " He frowned as he struggled to remember the previous night. "I fell through somethin' . . . that doorway, I think . . . an' I landed here, on th' Pearl. Ye said somethin' last night . . . somethin' 'bout me Da . . . It didn't exactly make sense . . . Not that any of this makes sense, because it sure as bloody Hell doesn't . . . "

He looked again at the handsome Pirate, his shimmering brown eyes full of compassionate sorrow. He had been hurt so badly by the death of this world's Will, and it was clear that he was still aching to be reunited with his love. He almost wished that he could be his Will for him, but he did not know him. And this still could be a trap.

* * *

Lorne lay very still, even though he knew some one was pulling the sheet off of his bed. He hadn't a clue for what purpose they were taking his sheet, but he wasn't giving himself away. He felt hot breath on him and still didn't stir.

She stood with her hind legs on the floor and her front paws on the bed, her eyes narrowed in a mixture of silent threats and wariness and her tail swishing slowly from side to side. She kneaded the bed softly as she stared down at the green Demon. She knew he was awake and was determined to reveal his true state to her family. Leaning forward, she blew her breath against his face, but he did not stir. Then, with a soft gentility that was completely unnatural to her, she brushed her whiskers across his face several times. She did not like being so gentle with this Demon who she knew they could not trust, but she knew that if she was rough with him, her beloved mother would accuse her of awakening him rather than realizing that he had not been truly been asleep at all.

As the three on the floor watched the eldest female's maneuverings, Crys shaking his head slightly, the little male suddenly shifted his leathery wings. "Coo coo," he murmured, and Crys raised his head, his own ice blue eyes narrowing in response. The air was shifting; something was wrong . . .

Lorne felt the tickles on his face and tried not to laugh out loud but ended up sneezing. He opened his eyes and looked over at Crys. "Why haven't you come to bed yet, boy? I told you that I would not hurt you. Do you not believe me?" He felt the air shift and wondered what kind of unholy mess was about to hit them.

Crys looked at the friendly Demon with wide eyes even as those around him went into instant alert. One yipped while another gave a soft growl. The female who'd proven her point glared directly into Lorne's face, though he could not see her, and growled low in her throat, sending hot air washing over his face.

"You were awake!" Indignant heat rose into his cheeks as Crys jumped up to his booted feet. He stumbled back as his invisible, male companion flew through the air and over to the window. Crys appeared to forget the Demon as he was called to the window. He walked over, peered into the night, and felt his blood run cold. "Goddess!"

An entire army seemed to be trooping through the town only a few buildings away from where they were staying. Trolls; hobgoblins; larger, full-blooded goblins; animated skeletons; Zombies; Werewolves; and Vampires all converged on one building. "What is the building," Crys demanded of Lorne, "that sits four buildings down on the other side of the road?"

Lorne did not deny the charge that he had not been asleep. Instead he asked, "What's going on at Blanche's now? She runs a saloon and brothel."

"Trouble," Crys stated darkly. He slid open the window. "I've got to go."

Instant whines, mews, and coos filled the air. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I've got to. You know I must do what is right." He began to hug and kiss each little body that pressed against his own.

"Crys, you can't go over there, lad! It's a whorehouse, and they will gobble you up!" Lorne ran over to the window just as humans began to be thrown out of the windows and doors by some unseen forces to the waiting crowd of what appeared to be every kind of monster imaginable. They fell upon the hapless humans, who had not recovered enough to run away, and were devouring them.

"DAMN AND TARNATION! COCO IS OVER THERE! Let me get my boys, and we'll all go over there." Making a mad scramble to grab Crys's arm, he barely managed to do so when something bit him in the seat of his pants! Lorne swatted at the unseen being, and his hand encountered fur! "DAMN IT, YOU ALMOST BIT ME STRAIGHT IN THE HEART!" he moaned.

* * *

"Victor, I was the fool, the idiot who let ya go! I should've told ya th' truth - that I can't live without ya! I'm sorry 'bout the girl haunting ya. I'm sorry fer lettin' ya think I didn't love ya even for one single moment when it was never the truth! I never stopped, an' every day, the pain increased more until I thought my heart would jump out o' my chest an' beat me t' death!"

"Come home; give me a second chance t' make things right with ya." Logan was close enough to finally be able to get his arms around Victor, and he did so hurriedly in a hug so tight that Victor would have to fight to get him to let go. "Together ya an' I can get outta this mess, go somewhere new, an' start over." He held on tightly to Victor from behind, his lips longing to touch Victor's and his soul yearning from the separation and the rejection Victor was about to hit him with...

The tears finally fell. Victor unsheathed his claws on one hand and raked them across his eyes, but still they came as his heart sang with Logan's words of love and his blackened soul was finally pierced by the beautiful light of that love. "I'm weak, Logan," he growled softly, turning in the arms that felt so wonderful around him, the arms that completed him at long last. He shook his head sorrowfully as he gazed down into his eyes.

"An' I don't think I can ever do what we did again. I can't keep robbin' banks when that could happen again at any time. That's why I took to bounty huntin'. At least this way I know I'm goin' after the right bitches." His eyes sparkled with tears as he gazed down into Logan's soulful orbs. "Tell me now," he demanded softly. "Do ya still love me?"

He yearned to be completed again; knew that only Logan and the love they shared could fill his aching heart, soul, and very being; and would have fallen to his knees before him and begged him like a whipped pup if he'd thought it would do any good to make him love him. But Victor knew that that was impossible for Logan was too strong of a man to ever be able to love the weakling he had allowed himself to become, and although he'd tried at every turn to beat the weakness out of himself, just as his father had so long ago before Logan had found him and pieced him back together, Victor had come to accept, at long last, that that weakness was a part of him as much as his claws.

There was nothing he could do about the way he was, and Logan would not, could not, love this side of him. He waited, trembling inside, for the answer that he knew would come, the answer he didn't want to hear but must, the answer that would condemn him to spend the rest of his life in the Hell on Earth he'd been suffering through ever since Logan had left him on that fateful day that seemed so long and yet had been only a little over a year past.

* * *

Cole looked at Elvira and then laughed. If she only knew the half of it! He heard her words and Salem's sorrowful answer. "My Lord Salem is more than magick; he is still powerful and much revered. He has many followers, and I count myself one lucky man that he cares for me. He will care for you if you will let him." Relaxing, he sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for Salem's orders should he give any.

Delvira's attention had swung fully back to the small, black cat sitting by the bed when Cole had began to talk of his lord Salem. Her black eyes filled with such shock and awe that they shimmered in the darkness. Then she fell to her knees before the great Wizard about whom she had heard and read so much. She bowed her head in supplication.

The Fieries began to hobble through the portal at that time. They gasped in shock as they saw their Queen on her knees. They were so stunned that they dropped the charred remains of their sister and gawked openly. "On your knees!" Delvira ordered. "On your knees to your King's King!"

They gaped at her, but when she barked, "_**Now!**_", they, too, fell to their knees. "What's wrong with her?" one whispered.

"I dunno," answered the one nearest to him.

"She's lost it," a third said.

"Maybe even worse'n poor Faith," a fourth commented.

"The King'll put a stop to this nonsense!" a fifth announced assuredly.

"King's King?" muttered yet another.

As the Fiery nearest him made a degrading sound with his orange beak and tongue, another cried out, "Like that's gonna happen!"

"Nobody Kings Jareth but him!"

"Yeah!"

A few began to giggle. "Dunno what they did to the Queen, but they're gonna get it!"

"My Liege," Delvira spoke to Salem, "forgive the banter of my subjects. You see, when the Gods made them, they neglected to inject their brains."

"Ha!" Salem laughed, grinning. His tail whisked through the air. "Tell me, dear lady, you're clearly not who you seem. Who are you?"

"My name is Delvira. Elvira is my identical twin sister. I have the honor of being married to a most wonderful man who has searched long and hard for you. I am certain you remember . . . " She looked up with a smile as the man of her thoughts and heart walked through the portal. She twirled to her feet in an elegant whirl of soft, black silk and creamy, pale white flesh. Realizing that she was still holding her athame, Delvira quickly returned it to its place on her sash and placed her hands caressingly upon her husband. "My dearest Jareth, we have found him at last!" She gestured with a hand back to the cat who sat, grinning from one of his pointed, furry, and black ears to the other. "There, my love, is your Salem Saberhagen!"

"Jareth!" Salem cried, leaping to his feet and rushing to twirl around Jareth's leather-clad legs. "You sly, old Goblin! When did you tie the knot?" He purred.

* * *

Will forced his gaze back to Gibbs' eyes. He tried to keep that thought firmly in his mind, but the way Gibbs looked up at him reminded him far too much of his own Gibbs. The two were mirror images of each other. Both this world's Gibbs and the Pirate called Jack seemed so truthful and so full of hurt, but what if it was a trap? And then it dawned on him. The answer was obvious. If they had a chance to hurt him, and took it, they had to be Demons, and if not . . .

But what if they killed him before he could avenge his family's murders? Will sighed and hung his head. He was so tired of running, so tired of living alone, of suffering the heartache and misery that he could no more stop than he could stop his own breathing. He had vowed to avenge his family or die trying . . . and he had been trying, been hunting the Hunter and trying to find a way to get to the evil, heartless bitch of a Queen who'd caused his family to be murdered when they'd done nothing to her for more years than he could even remember any longer.

In his moment of indecision, Will's fingers unclenched, allowing his sword to slip from his fingers and fall, clattering, to the deck. Now was the time. Now he would either be killed, or . . . Or what? Will wondered.

What indeed? This was a new world, but he could hear Gibbs' voice in his head again as he told him that his father was dead in this world too. But Gibbs, or at least this world's Gibbs, was alive. What would his father think of him if he tried, for the first time since he'd been shot down in front of him, to live? Would he hate him? Could he ever understand?

Had his beloved father not gone against his cries and ignored his begs and pleas to let him stay with him by throwing him overboard in a feign and desperate hope that he might survive? But was that survival only so that he could avenge their murders? Nae!, Will cried inwardly. Nae, his father could never be like that!

Or could he?

* * *

Crys gave Lorne a strange look indeed as he hollered about his heart. "Keep him here, babies," he instructed. "No, you'll not be coming this time, Cindy. If you come, Elvira will come, and she's not ready for that yet! As for him, he won't stand a chance if he gets over there! They'll eat him before he even knows what hit him!" Cindy's quick bite on Lorne's rear had freed her arm from the Demon, and now Crys jumped agilely off of the roof.

Lorne looked anxiously around the room but still couldn't see anything. However his butt hurting like Hell was living proof that something or some one was in the room and had just taken a bite out of him! He backed slowly towards the door and had reached it before it dawned on him that Crys knew Elvira. So just where in the Hell was Elvira? Had someone put a spell on her to make her invisible?

He had to get to Crys before some one munched on him for dessert!

He thought he had made it, but just as he opened the door, it was slammed. He ran to the window and tried to get it open, but something with wings beat him away from it! "What the Hell is in here?" he demanded. He was trapped and could not help Coco or Crys!

The smallest of the three, the only boy in the group, looked at his sisters. He had wanted to fly out of the window and follow their beloved Crys, but the window had been shut before he could. Now he had to help his sisters keep Lorne from getting himself killed, and yet, although the green Demon clearly was no fighter, he was determined to go to the fight.

Despite what his eldest sister thought, the little fellow knew the Demon was not all bad. He had taken them and given them food and water and Crys the opportunity to share his bed without making any inappropriate moves. He had defended them, as best he could, from the ass called Derek, and with his butt hurting, he still had not swung out at them. He glanced at his siblings, one of whom whined and the other of whom shook her head, lashed out with her tail through the air, bared her teeth, and growled.

He knew they would be mad as Hell if he revealed himself and that the lioness might well threaten to eat him if he dared to show them, but yet he believed, with all his heart, that Lorne was not a bad guy. Still they'd trusted no one but Crys and Jack for years, and none would believe their story. If they did dare to speak him, it would endanger any one to whom they told it.

He danced from talon to talon as he weighed his options. He gazed back outside the window and was just in time to see Crys get hit from behind. His roar echoed through the room, and with one single thought, the dragon lifted his mask from his own self, while keeping his sisters still hidden. Even as he was revealed in sparkling lights, the small, blue dragon belched forth flames that exploded the window pane and flew through the shattering and melting glass.

Even as he winged his way to Crys, however, the Troll that had jumped the blonde from out of the shadows while he had been distracted fighting dodging a Werewolf and slicing his sword straight through a hobgoblin turned into ice and shattered into a million pieces.

Up in the room, the lioness roared and again latched on to Lorne's rear end while her sister urgently yipped at her to be careful lest she damage his heart. From a mouthful of green trousers and butt, her tail cutting angrily through the air, the lioness heatedly informed her sister that that was impossible for no living creature had their heart in their butt! The wolf argued vehemently, in yips and barks, that it was, too, possible for anything was possible and they certainly knew that better than any one else.

Lorne's mouth flew open in shock at the small, blue dragon who flew out the window after burning it up. Lorne knew no one was ever going to believe this! He tried pulling his butt away from the teeth that were holding him firmly in place. What was it? Lorne wondered. Could it be another dragon? "Please be careful with my rear," he pleaded. "My heart is in my left butt cheek!"

He managed to get to the window where he could see what was going on below. He knew he wasn't a fighter, but he would have tried to rescue his friend, Coco, and Crys. "It's not fair, guys; you gotta let me go! they need me!"

* * *

Gibbs walked over, picked up Will's sword, and handed it back to him. Now that the danger from Will was over, Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief. "When's th' last time ye had something t' eat, Will? Keep an eye on Jack; make sure he doesn't do something stupid like hurt himself."

Gibbs glanced over at the bed where a half-clothed Jack was searching through the covers for something. He had about made up his mind to ask him what he was looking for when, with a triumphant shout of joy, Jack leaped from the bed, holding his prize up where the sun shone upon it, blinding them all for a minute. Jack walked over to Will, holding out the necklace that Will had not even missed having on! "Yours!" Jack said with a grin.

Will's mouth had already been hanging agape from the shock of Gibbs' kindness when Jack offered him the necklace. His jaw fell further open, and tears filled his eyes. His hands shook. He sheathed his sword before he could drop it a second time, and this time fully without intention of doing so. His fingers brushed over the necklace. "I . . . I . . . " He stuttered but could not speak.

With shaking hands, Will pulled his jacket and shirt open so that his own matching Pirate medallion could be seen. The morning sun glistened upon the gold. "I . . . " Then it all came flooding back to him. He remembered the previous night, and he heard again everything that Jack and Gibbs had told him of the agonizing loss that they, too, had suffered. He tried to smile through his tears, but his smile faltered. "I . . . I'm so sorry . . . " he whispered.

He gazed into Jack's soulful, kohl-rimmed eyes, tears glistening in his own brown pools. Here was a man who had loved him, though it had not been he himself. He had loved him with the power of a love like that that was sung of in legends, and yet he had lost him. He had had taken him from him, his life stolen from within his very arms by a cold-hearted bitch like the one who had taken his family from him, perhaps even the very same one. His pain shone in his eyes, and Will knew that he was still hurting: still hurting and grieving terribly for the man he had been in this world. "I'm sorry . . . "

He wished that he could be that Will, that he could take the agonizing heartache and misery from Jack's deep, beautiful eyes and replace them with the happiness and love that must have sparkled in them before, but he could not. He was only himself, a man who was hurting just as terribly much for his family whom he had lost years ago and would never see again, but he could no more give Jack his Will back than he could resurrect his family. He blinked back tears as he gazed into Jack's dark, satiny eyes and realized that he could easily lose himself within his enchanting orbs forever more.

Jack smiled and touched Will's face tenderly and softly as though he was afraid that he would break him.

* * *

Lifting Victor's beloved face so that he could peer into his eyes, Logan spoke, "Yer've never been weak, my love! Confused, prideful, hard headed, quick to anger but just as quick to love, sexy! Ya turn me inside out an' make me horny as Hell from just one touch... I've wanted ya since th' first time I saw ya! I think I've loved ya forever! You were in my dreams before we ever met!"

"I was a stupid idiot fer ever sayin' those mean, hurtful things I said t' ya an' an even bigger fool fer riding away from ya. Can ya ever forgive me? Can ya love me again?" He plunged his lips down onto Victor's lips and pledged his undying love, expecting to be struck down for his many unforgivable sins against love...

Joy, love, and passion surged through every fiber of Victor's being. His heart roared in his ears as it and his soul thrilled at having his dream come true delivered to him. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky as to still have Logan's love, but he damn sure wasn't about to let him go this time! His hands clasped his face, his fingers and palms caressing his skin, and the tips of his claws gently grazing him. His tongue dove into his mouth as he returned his kiss with just as much passion as he was being kissed with and a hundredfold more. A howl of happiness, amour, and the primal need that accompanied the feelings surged through him but was drowned by Logan's mouth. He kept kissing him, his hands dropping from his handsome face to fondle every spot of his body that they could reach, as he backed him up against the wall. His tongue continued to dance heatedly with his; his mouth continued to ravage his as though he were drowning and only Logan could save him, which indeed only he could; his body rubbed against his; his hands swept ever lower in their caresses; and his manhood roared with maddeningly pounding blood to thrust against his!

Logan's tongue continued dueling with Victor's as his hands stroked all over his body. Victor's nakedness inspired Logan to higher heights, and he broke off the kiss to begin kissing Vic on his exposed skin. He licked and nibbled his way downward until he met Victor's sword thrusting violently forward and touching his through Logan's pants. Grasping it firmly, he dove with his mouth over the shaft and began to suck him as though he was a stick of peppermint while his hands caressed his ass.

He thought his clothes would bust as he got harder and hotter then he could ever remember being. He wished his clothes were off but did not want to take the time to get them off in his desperation to give Victor all the loving he could handle. Knowing that the being could return any moment and end their lives at a whim made him even more desperate to make Victor know how much he loved him...

Victor was awash in the sea of emotions that only Logan had ever seen raging throughout his being. Logan was the only one who he had ever loved, the only one whose loving he had ever needed, and the only one who had ever set his very soul aflame with passion just for him with the slightest of touch. Now Victor's whole body was engulfed in that fire, and only Logan could save him. Only Logan could have always ever saved his lowly hide, and Victor's heart and mouth howled with the fury, passion, pleasure, and love that surged throughout everything he was in this moment shared with a man who he thought would never look at him again with anything more than hatred burning in his sexy eyes.

Now he had been granted a miracle for love and passion burned in those same sexy eyes whose anger had haunted his every dream since they'd last parted. Logan still loved him, and Victor had never known such pure and ecstatic happiness as he knew in this moment! A roar burst from Victor's burning mouth, burning for ache to touch Logan's sweet and savage mouth again and be filled with his wild tongue and tender loving, and his claws unsheathed. In one smooth movement of his blades, he stripped Logan of his clothes, whirled him around, and pressed him into the muddy side of the hole in which they'd been thrown. Bringing him up, he slammed his mouth down onto his again as his sword stroked his.

Only Logan could fill the aching voice in his heart and soul, in his very essence, and though Victor had feared he'd be empty again for the rest of his miserable existence, he knew now that that would never happen for Logan loved him! He strove to make him feel every bit of how much he needed, wanted, and loved him, too, as his hands roamed his body, the tips of his claws gently grazing his flesh; his hot mouth plundered his; and his sword pressed harder and harder and rubbed ever faster against Logan's own . . .

* * *

Cole had jumped to his feet at the unexpected turn of events. He had rushed forward to protect Salem only to be confronted by the weird creatures who had poured into the room so rapidly. The surprise at seeing an old friend gave him a rush, and he sprang forward, hand held out, to greet his long lost "brother".

Jareth stood, looking at Salem a scant second before grasping Cole's welcoming hand and then kneeling down to worship his King. "At long last, my Lord, we have found you, and we will never let you go..." Jareth lifted Salem's front paws and kissed them pledging his fealty...

Salem was stunned by Jareth's pledge, and his heart surged. He purred deeply and rubbed his head against the Goblin King whom he had secretly helped, for many years when he had been but a lad, to rule his kingdom. "Together we stand," he purred. "Together we will always stand!" His tail whipped out as he cried, "This time they shall not best us for love will always overcome all opposition!"

And had that not been the very reason why he had failed before? He had been fool enough to think that he might love Hilda Spellman, of all despicable people! Now he knew better! He could never have loved Hilda! She was a vain, selfish bitch who was as far beneath him as the worms crawling in the dirt! It had only been his blasted, betraying loins talking and weaving him underneath their own spell. He had failed because of his own foolishness as a man, but this time he was no man. He was a cat, and he and his people would not be bested by anything this time! They would win this round and save the world forever more!

* * *

Far below in the street, where blood ran like a river, a guy in the shadows stepped forward and began to clear a path to the doorway of the saloon. He was dressed in black with a long, flapping duster. He was breaking necks left and right and occasionally using a stake to vanquish Vampires. His progress was slow at first, but soon, as Lorne watched, the man went in and didn't return. {Who is he?} Lorne did not recognize him, but yet he seemed familiar.

Crys gave the black-clothed stranger a curious look as he ducked into the saloon. His senses told him that he was one thing, but if he was indeed as he registered, his actions certainly spoke louder than his blood or, rather, the lack thereof. The blonde split apart another Zombie, then jumped into the air in a spinning kick. He lashed out with his sword made of ice, smoothly off the head of a Troll just before the cumbersome beast could grab him. The head bounced through the air and landed on a hobgoblin, who squealed underneath its weight.

As other hobgoblins ran to help their fallen comrade, Crys landed in a flash of black, white, golden blonde, and silver; smoothly kicked the feet out from underneath a Vampiress; and let his momentum slide him right out from underneath the slashing claws of a Werewolf. He shot a fist up into the air as he slid away from the salivating, hairy beast, and the Werewolf was turned instantly to ice. Unlike the maneuver he had used with the first Troll that night, however, this time the ice did not shatter but simply kept the Werewolf frozen as Crys leaped back onto his feet.

He glared up at the blue dragon who was busily toasting a screeching ghoul, two huge bats, and another monster who looked akin to the Frankenstein monster created in the Mary Shelley novels, that they both knew had actually been based on real life instead of being merely a fictional account of a mad scientist's greatest discovery. Crys snagged the trailing bandage of a mummy who had been attempting to slide by their guard and yanked. Even as the mummy unraveled, he drove his sword through another skeleton, scattering its bones, and shouted at the dragon, "I TOLD YOU TO STAY WITH YOUR SISTERS!"

"COO COO!" Blue called back as he dove away from the gnashing teeth of a Vampire and the swinging, anvil-sized fist of a Troll.

"I KNOW YOU THOUGHT I NEEDED HELP, BLUE," Crys called back, turning both creatures instantly to ice, "BUT THE FACT IS I TOLD YOU TO STAY THERE BECAUSE ELVIRA DOES NOT NEED TO BE IN THIS MESS! SHE'S NOT READY! IT'S TOO SOON AFTER THE HEALING!"

"COO COO!"

"I'M DIFFERENT!" Crys' ice blue eyes flashed with his words as he shattered the Troll. "THIS IS MY RESPONSIBILITY, NOT YOURS!"

"COO COO!"

As Crys and the dragon called simply Blue continued to quarrel while fighting the monsters in the street below, the two females they'd left back up in Lorne's bedroom were also arguing quite rapidly over the green Demon's rear end. "LET HIM GO!" Elvira yipped.

The big cat's response came in a growl ushered from around the chunk of Lorne's butt she stubbornly clenched in her mouth and her tail cutting through the air as fast as the blonde's sword was sending blood splattering down below. If she was to let the Demon go, Crys would be upset, and to make matters worse, when he left the room, there'd be no one left to guard and her sister would high tail it out there too.

Yet she still wanted to help. She eyed Elvira over Lorne's butt and growled an offer, "*Do whatever is needed to keep him here, and stay here yourself. Promise me that, and I'll let him go.*"

Elvira sighed. Her tail whisked through the air. She wanted to help Crys, too! In fact, she should already be down there; they both should be fighting right alongside their parent and brother! Yet if Lorne's heart was truly contained in his buttocks, one wrong move or more deeply sunken tooth on her sister's part would cause Cindy to kill Lorne. Although Cindy always acted fierce, Elvira knew that her heart was, in truth, almost as kind and generous to those who deserved her kindness as her own, Blue's, and Crys' hearts were.

But what if it wasn't in his heart? He was a Demon. He could be lying, but her nose told her the truth. He wasn't lying. She just wanted to think he was, so that she could go help Crys. Her head, tails, nose, and ears drooped as she finally gave her agreement in a soft whimper.

Cindy spit out Lorne's butt, her tail again striking through the air and raising like a flag. She grinned at her sister. "*I'll bite one for you!*" she promised and bounded out of the window.

Elvira immediately jumped on the ledge behind her, and then she screamed as a Troll as big as the saloon and almost more gruesome than anything she'd ever seen came around the side of the building. Cindy roared, but although she ran with all the speed and strength she possessed, she knew she could not make it to her family in time. Blue had flown into the building but now ducked his head back out with a curious, "Coo?", to see what had caused his sisters to scream and roar in fear. He screeched, his wings flapping like mad, as a gigantic hand slammed down in front of Crys.

* * *

Jack left the necklace laying in Will's hand as he turned to get the rest of his clothes and finish dressing.

Gibbs, realizing that Jack was not in danger from himself at the moment, called to them, "I'll bring ye breakfast," and scurried out of the room.

Jack knew Will was watching him dress. It made him nervous but he didn't give himself away. As he was buttoning the last buttons on his shirt, he looked up into Will's brown eyes and wondered what he was thinking. He was both relieved that he had found the treasure and that Will was no longer looking at him as though he was a Demon...

Will had been shocked when the handsome, beguiling Pirate had so gently touched his face, as reverently and carefully as though he were a China doll and he was afraid of breaking him, and even more startled by the heat that had spread through Jack's simple touch and seeped throughout every inch of Will's body and deeper. Now, as he gazed at him again, Will felt a different sort of heat rising through his neck and up his face. He fingered the collars of his jacket and shirt. Why was it suddenly so hot here? The Caribbean was always hot, but he'd never been this hot before!

"We . . . I . . . That is, you . . . " He blushed a deep crimson red and finally turned away. "You said that we . . . that is you . . . and I . . . or . . . hum . . . the I from this world . . . the me from this world . . . You said we were lovers?" he finally managed to blurt out. When Jack didn't answer him at first, he turned slowly back around and cast him a wary, apprehensive look from underneath his lashes.

Jack looked at the new Will, taking in his features that he knew and loved so well. He tried to find something different from his Will, but he couldn't. He appeared to be identical to his love. Finally, he spoke, "Will was my heart and soul! He was my everything! Without him, there's nothing but cold emptiness for all of my life! I don't want to live without him, and now that it's finally over, I can go to him!"

"I thought when ye came that They had sent my Will back to me, but that cannot and will not ever be. I see that now. I hope you find what ye're looking for, Will! Take care o' Gibbs, an' he'll take care o' you. He's a great friend through good and bad times. He raised me, an' he took care o' my Will."

He had been backing up the entire time as he was talking, and before Will could stop him or even knew what was happening, Jack was gone...

**To Be Continued . . . **


	36. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-five**

Memories flashed through Carlos' mind as he clung to Trent's weak hand and continued to pray. Tears streamed down his face like rain, and although the storm from earlier was long gone, it continued to echo in his mind. If only they'd not gone out into the storm, maybe that child would not have been caught upon the mountain, and if he'd not been there, Trent and Trina would not have risked their very lives to save him.

And yet a part of him, the part that always listened to Trent even if he didn't admit it openly, knew that they had done what was right and would not regret doing so even if they never opened their eyes again. He heard the rumbling thunder and howling winds echoing again in his ears, and he heard Trent's voice. They'd had to save that child, and his beloved Trent would never have hesitated to do everything within his power to save Little Wildcat even if he had known what was to come because of his heroics.

At one time, Carlos would have argued vehemently against going out in the rain, but that had been years ago, way back when they were children. He had been aware, even then, of the forbidden feelings that Trent evoked inside of him. They'd gone out into a storm when they had been children in search of a lost kid. Trina had teased him about his fear of the thunder and lightning, but Trent had held his hand every time they had been alone and had explained the wonders of God's work until he had opened Carlos' eyes to both the need and the beauty of the rain.

Carlos had never told Trent just why he had come to like the rain, however, but it had come to remind him of those treasured moments with the man he loved but could never have. He saw again now how Trent's blonde hair, wide-brimmed hat, jacket, and shirt had become so wet that they'd clung to him and how he'd smiled so charmingly despite becoming first soaked and later cold. He remembered how Trent had shivered against him and how he'd gotten to wrap his arms around him and claimed it was only to help shut out the cold and warm up his best friend. Yes, his arms around him had helped to warm Trent, but the embrace had also warmed him, a warmth that again spread throughout his body.

Softly, without even truly being aware of the words that escaped his lips, Carlos began to sing.

"_I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you  
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through  
On the darkest day there's always light and now I see it too  
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you  
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind  
All the heaven's rivers come to light I see it all unwind  
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane  
When I hear it I just can't believe I never liked the rain_

_Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you  
Liked the rain always calling for you I'm falling for you now  
Just like the rain_

_When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me  
It's as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldn't see  
That it's always good and when the flood is gone we still remain  
Guess I've known all along I just belong here with you falling_

_Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you  
Liked the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now  
Just like the rain I have fallen for you  
I'm falling for you now just like the rain_"

* * *

"GIBBS!" Will shouted and raced after Jack. The Pirate had had him so befuddled with his flowery words of love and the heat that he could feel spreading through him from him without him even laying his hands upon him that Will's reactions had been too slow. He dove through the window he'd seen him go out and down into the water . . . only to find no sign of Jack!

The waves splashed across Will's head, but no matter where he looked, he could find no sign of him. His heart thundered. He barely knew the man, but he knew that this world's Gibbs would be devastated by his loss and felt a hollow ache beginning in his own rapidly pounding heart at the thought of his death. "GIBBS!" he screamed again. "HE'S GONE OVERBOARD!" He dove further into the water, desperately seeking any sign of the Pirate who already stirred stronger and strangers feelings in him than he'd ever before felt.

"DAMN IT, JACK!" Gibbs yelled as he raced back to the cabin. "COME OUT O' TH' WATER, BOY! IT'S NOT GONNA DO YE ANY GOOD! HE'S NOT DOWN THERE BUT UP THERE!" Gibbs pointed skyward... "HE'S GOT SOME FOOL PLAN TO END IT ALL! HE KILLED TH' BITCH YESTERDAY; SAW HIM FEED HER T' TO THE SHARKS! HE WENT UP T' DIE AFTER, BUT THEN YE CAME! HE'S GOIN' T' DO TH' SAME THING AGAIN AN' AGAIN UNTIL..." The old man choked on his own words...

The sound of his emotions strangling Mister Gibbs shot straight to Will's heart which was already aching for Jack. "THROW ME A ROPE!" he cried, and when the rope came sailing, he grabbed it and began to climb, heading after Jack without a moment's doubt. He did not understand all of the feelings churning within his being at the moment, but he knew one thing beyond any shadow of a doubt: He had to reach him and find a way to stop Jack from killing himself! Even as Will told himself it was to protect this world's Gibbs from further heartache, something whispered deep inside him that that wasn't truly the only reason for his determination, anguish, and fright.

* * *

Crys jumped back and barely avoided being squashed. Something grabbed Blue from behind and snatched the little dragon into the saloon. "BLUE!" Crys screamed. She tried to run for him, but the hand came again. This time, however, a bullet blazed through it. Flesh and blood rained down, and the Troll howled in furious pain.

"GO!" a dark-skinned man bellowed at the blonde-haired being that he perceived to only be a boy. "GET AWAY FROM HERE!"

Crys shot his hands up, and the Troll's entire arm became encased with ice. The movement gave Cindy just enough time to reach him, and together they barreled into the saloon. They stood together in the doorway. Blue's spell had been broken when he'd been distracted, and now Cindy, and Elvira up on the roof before Lorne, could both be seen. The lioness' fur raised on her back, and her furry lips pulled back from her fangs in a savage growl of warning. She'd rip out the heart of whoever had her brother!

Angel had fought halfway up the staircase, hoping that Coco was up there somewhere, when he heard something crying out in pain behind him. Turning, he saw a Troll trying to pull the wings off what he thought at first was a bird. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a little, blue dragon, and Angel felt obliged to rescue it.

Jumping for the chandelier, Angel rode it across the floor with his boots pointed towards the front, slamming into the Troll and knocking him backwards through a wall. The impact freed the dragon. "Fly for your life, little fellow!" he encouraged the blue dragon. He turned and ran back up the stairs.

Crys and Cindy had entered the saloon just in time to see the dark-haired stranger in the trench coat sail to Blue's rescue. This particular Troll, however, had its mind set that it wanted dragon for dinner. It had been a long time since the beast had had such a tasty morsel, and it growled its hunger as it lumbered back to its feet. "Bad Vampire turn from us! Me eat dragon first, then Vampire for dessert!"

* * *

"When Kingie get hit in head?" one Fiery whispered to another.

"I dunno," the second Fiery answered, "but he done gone loco!"

Another snickered. "He always been a bit loco!"

"That what makes him so fantaso!" a fourth exclaimed.

"Yeah, man," a fifth said, taking out his eyeballs and rolling them across the floor, "we all nuts here!"

"Yup! Runs in the family!" agreed a sixth even as another Fiery hollered in excitement, "Snake eyes!"

"Silence, you fools!" Delvira snapped. A flick of her pale wrist sent a lasso of fire snapping out. It slapped each Fiery who had spoken derisively of Jareth and Salem in their mouths before vanishing back into Delvira's palm. "You'll not speak that way of either of your Kings or else you'll lose your tongue permanently."

"Kings? But, Queenie, we only got one Queen!"

Delvira's pupil less, black eyes narrowed in on the Fiery who had dared to speak again with such a dangerous glare that they shook so badly in its sight that their body parts began to fall apart and scatter across the floor. Instantly another Fiery grabbed one of his legs and kicked his head across the floor with a snicker. "Salem is the King of your King, so what do you think that would make him to your lowly hides?" Delvira demanded, her tone as bitter and cold as ice. She knew what Salem meant to Jareth and would not have the Fieries or any other of their subjects belittling Salem or her beloved husband.

The one who had taken the other one's leg glanced at Salem, looked at Delvira uncertainly, paused, and then asked foolishly, "A cat?"

Delvira popped him in the mouth with fire a second time. "The King of your King is also your leader! Now kneel before him, you insolent fools!" As her whip of fire cracked through the air, the Fieries dropped to their hands and knees before Salem and Jareth.

Delvira looked apologetically at Salem. "As I said, the Gods unfortunately neglected to remember their brains."

Salem smiled and tried not to laugh. His long, black tail twitched in his amusement. He glanced back at Jareth. "Where did you find this one, son? She's certainly a firecracker." He smiled his approval.

"My Lord, she found me, and that was my lucky day! I'll let her tell you about it, but first I must introduce my Lady to you." Still kneeling, he turned to Delvira, "My love, come and meet our King." He held his hand out to her.

The click-clack of Delvira's black high heels echoed a bit in the room as she moved to take her husband's hand and kneel beside him. Salem fought to keep his eyes from moving to the severely low cut of her dress, but he was still a man within a cat's body and it was sorely tempting for him to gaze upon the luscious, pale globes of womanhood that nearly dropped out of her sexy dress as she lowered herself before him. "I have heard much about you, Your Majesty. Jareth and I had began to fear that this night would never come, but at last we have found you, when we need you the most."

* * *

Emotions threatened to clog Carlos' throat, and his words became strained as he continued to sing, remembering the events of the first night he'd recognized the truth of his feelings for his sweet and wonderful best friend and the song he'd secretly created that night, a song he'd never dared to sing to the true love of his life and now might well never get the chance to do so.

"_And when the night falls on our better days  
And we're looking to the sky  
For the winds to take us high above the plains  
I know that we'll find better ways to look into the eye of the storms that will be calling  
Forever we'll be falling_"

Carlos clutched Trent's hand to his lips. He kissed it softly and laid his face against his hand as he cried even more heavily, sobs raking him as he heard Sean softly echoing the chorus of the song. He was amazed that the Sheriff had not turned against him when he'd discovered how he felt about Trent. Part of him wondered if there was any hope for Trent to ever feel the same about him and not turn from him in horror should he ever dare to speak the truth of the feelings that so completely filled every fiber of his being whenever he looked at him or even just thought of him, the feelings he'd claimed for years to have for Trina as an excuse to stay close to the twins but had never once felt for any one other than his best friend in all the world.

Yet, in truth, Carlos knew that Trent would never understand. He was the best man he had ever known, and his thoughts were always filled with doing the Lord's work. He'd never dare to look at him with true love alighting his majestic blue eyes, and he'd see Carlos' real feelings for him as nothing more than the deadliest sin. Carlos kissed his hand again, and his eyelashes batted against the skin that had become roughened from years of hard work as his tears continued to fall.

That would be okay, he promised silently. It would be okay if Trent never loved him the way he would always love him. He only needed him to open his eyes and live, and if he'd just do that, his whole world would be complete and righted once more. Yet Carlos also knew that, without Trent's light lighting up his dark life like lightning cutting across the night-time, desert sky, there would be nothing left for him in this world . . .

"_Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you  
Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just  
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you  
Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just  
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you  
Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just_"

* * *

Jack's heart was broken in a million pieces drowned at sea. He laughed hoarsely to himself as he climbed to his perch for the last time. He looked down far below and could see the boy Will thrashing in the water. He watched as Gibbs got him out and pointed at Jack way up in the mast. There was no way they could see what he was about to do.

Jack smiled wryly to himself as he saw in his mind's eye his own Will and the first time he had climbed the mast. He'd been terrified but had done it any way, trying to catch Jack when they had been fighting over something so unimportant that Jack couldn't remember what it even was. Tears filled Jack's eyes as he remembered holding Will when he'd almost fallen from there and barely catching him. But he had caught him, and the kiss they had shared had been so beautiful it made the Angels sing...

"It's all over but th' dyin', Will! I'm coming home to you, my love!" At the first touch of the paring knife, Jack winced and wished he had some rum to dull the pain, but he continued cutting both his wrists until he could no longer hold the knife... It slipped out of his hand and fell, head over hilt, all the way down until it landed in the deck, quivering and barely missing Gibbs!

Gibbs screamed, "OH MY GODS! NOOOOOOOO! MY BOY'S DONE IT!", and stared at the bright crimson that stained the knife. He began to frantically climb the mast, knowing he could never reach Jack in time but desperately trying any way. Looking upward, he saw that Will was almost there! Would he make it or fall? What could they do to save Jack?

Jack stood very still, waiting to fall. In his mind, he could hear Angels singing and Demons howling. He knew he was bound for Hell, but he was already in Hell for any place without his beloved Will was Hell! Would the Angels get him and take him to Will, or would the Demons pull him down into a dark, watery death where he'd never again see his sweet love? He smiled wryly at himself, heedless to both his tears and blood dropping slowly downward, as his life drained from him, and down onto those who were below...

* * *

Cindy's low growl turned into a full-blown roar. "No." Crys' voice was quiet and soft, but his command was firm. The lioness stayed by the blonde's side as he raised both fists. Ice began to cover the Troll, spreading up his smelly, wart-covered feet, each of which was the size of a small hill; over his bare, green legs; and further up his body. He roared his anguish and fought against the spell, but the ice held him firmly.

Cooing loudly, Blue circled around until he was able to come in to land on Crys' shoulder. "Coo?" he asked Cindy.

"*She's in the room with the Demon,*" the lioness replied, her tail lashing through the air. "*She'd better stay there and he'd better not hurt her, or I'll have him for *my* dinner!*"

Screeching filled the air. "POWER!" Crys' attention remained focused on the Troll, but the animals looked up to see harpies flying about, their wings batting rapidly to keep them afloat in the small, dusty building and their vile faces twisted with interest of what was happening below them.

"*FRY TIME!*" Blue screeched and flew up to meet them, belching flame as he soared.

The Troll was almost completely covered in its impending casket of ice by that time, but Cindy whirled with a fierce roar belting forth from her lungs as she felt evil converging upon them. The lioness flew bravely into the nearest creature's face, and the Werewolf howled as he got a face full of twenty, frenzied claws. No sooner had he fallen back, however, than three Vampiresses rushed forward at once.

"CINDY!" Crys screamed. He whirled from the Troll, of which only its head was still free of ice, to see that a whole group of the evil creatures were aiming for Cindy and himself. "GODDESS!" He flew into the fight, placing himself between the nearest Vampiress and Cindy seconds before her claws would have struck his baby. He took the claws full in the face and drove his sword of ice straight through her stomach.

The Vampiress fell back with a hiss. Cindy met the second Vampiress and kept her own, meeting her claw for claw. Crys pulled his sword out of the first Vampiress' stomach, chopped off the third's arms as she reached for him, and moved again to meet the oncoming assault of another Troll.

Blue, meanwhile, was toasting harpies and hobgoblins as fast as he could go. The little dragon had become a streak of leathery, blue skin and red flames.

* * *

"COCO, ARE YOU QUITE CERTAIN THAT THIS IS NOT A NIGHTMARE?"

"DAMN STRAIGHT, EZ! WHY? WHAT'S HAPPENED NOW?"

"NEVER YOU MIND! JUST GET THE LADIES TO SAFETY!"

Coco ripped his eyes away from where his best friend, clad only in his night clothes, stood at the top of the staircase, rapidly firing off his derringer at any creature who came too close to the hallway, to the women he was ushering into his bedroom. They had already lost many of their people by this outpouring of monsters from Hell itself, and his mind whirled with a thousand questions a minute. Where were these things coming from? Why were they out to get them? What did they want? What were they?

"I DON'T BELIEVE MY DAUGHTER ABANDONED US!" Sophia screeched, glaring holes in the door of Blanche's bedroom.

Coco, too, was hurt by Blanche's abandonment, but he could hear her arguing with her gunslinger boyfriend inside the room and moving furniture and was determined to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You mean your son," he advised Sophia, when a few of the women who remained shot the old lady questioning looks.

"No, I mean my pussy of a daughter!"

"MA!" D screeched indignantly as he and Blanche almost fell out into the hallway.

"Quick, Sophia, get in here!" Blanche urged.

"We're going in here!" Rose told them. "You can come with us if you want, even though you tried to shut us all out!" Several of the other women nodded.

"Ah'm sorry about that," Blanche said, hurrying to Coco and giving him her most apologetic look. She shot D a glare. "D got spooked - " Her words cut off into a shrill scream as the woman who had been guarding the left end of the hallway with her father's handed-down shotgun got snatched out of the hall by her throat.

"IN THE ROOM NOW!" Coco bellowed, shoving Blanche into his bedroom. "EVERY ONE, GO!"

"Coco, what are ya gonna do, shugah?"

"I don't know, but there isn't time for arguing. Get in there, every one of you!"

Another scream meant the woman at the right end of the hall had just been killed, and that left only Ezra to defend them. "Give me that," Coco demanded, robbing D of his gun before he could stop it. "A real gunslinger needs it!" His dark eyes shot at him, daring him to defy him. Before D could do so, however, Blanche put her hand over his mouth, Rose took his other gun and handed it to Coco, and the two women dragged him into Coco's bedroom.

"Get me the basin quick," Sophia demanded, "over by the window."

"By the window?" Lorelei asked. "Are you nuts?"

"They'll be coming in there next!" Rose cried.

"I need to gather the moonlight," the old lady explained, "to make holy water."

"You know how to make holy water?" Buffy questioned in disbelief.

"Yes, you nitwit! Now get moving!"

"Ma!"

"Don't Ma me now, D, or I'll tell the whole world your secret."

D hushed. Sophia had almost spilled the beans, and he had no doubt that she'd finish uncovering all his secrets for the world to laugh at in his final moments.

"I'm going under the bed," Rose announced and proceeded to do just that. "They won't find me under here. It's an old Viking tradition for hiding from Trolls. If only we had a nuncabloggin, we'd be able to fight them, but we're defenseless now!"

"Rory, get out of the closet!" Lorelei told her daughter. "That's my hiding spot!"

"But, Mom!"

"Fine. You can hide with me."

"EVERYBODY, SHUT UP," Sophia snapped, "OR ALL YOUR BRAINS WILL GET EATEN AND I WON'T EVEN TRY TO STOP THEM!"

"MA!"

"I SAID SHUT UP! I HAVE TO CONCENTRATE!" The few remaining women watched in stunned silence as Sophia held her wrinkled hands over the basin of water that Blanche had carried to the window and began making strange movements as though she was trying to pull something into the water.

When the elderly woman began to chant, Buffy shrieked. "SHE'S A WITCH!" she said, pointing a quivering finger at Sophia and falling against the door.

Meanwhile, Coco had turned from the closed door to take D's guns to Ezra when he saw three blondes slowly making their way down the hallway. All three were shaking from head to toe, but it was Coco who screamed and dropped the guns he carried, causing both to go off and shoot holes through the roof, when he saw one of the women point at a charging Werewolf and the beast's mangy, furry head transform into a bouquet of flowers. He fell, quivering, against the wall, too stunned to even move!

* * *

"_Like the rain  
Like the rain  
Like the rain  
Like the rain  
Like the rain  
Like the rain_"

A white hand fell softly upon the flap of the teepee, and the woman's heart pounded in her ribcage. It did not pound so frantically for the thought of what was about to come to the people who she had left behind nor for fear for herself lest she be discovered in the Indian village. Instead it pounded so in a rhythm she dared not name in response to the soft, lilting Irish croon singing within the teepee.

She tingled as she listened to Sheriff Cassidy sing. His delightful accent had done strange things to her body, heart, and spirit ever since she'd first heard him speak, and she silently wished that those words could be intended for her though she knew such to be impossible. He was far too much of a strict and upright man of the law to ever look at her in such a light.

She wondered who he was singing about, and her hands clutched the skin of the teepee harder as she longed to be able to wrap her hands around the bitch and choke the very life out of her. No one but herself deserved the amazing Sean Cassidy, and yet she knew that she could never have him. She'd have him one night, sooner or later, but it would be only one night that he would hang his hat and pistols on her bedpost. She would never be able to hold him for more than one night for he would never allow himself to be degraded so greatly again and would not live in sin and she was certainly not the marrying type, and yet, Emma knew, that once she had that one night, she'd never be able to turn away from him and would hold on to those cherished memories for the rest of her life.

* * *

"Missus . . . " called a tiny voice from within the circle of Fieries.

"I'm getting to it," Delvira returned. Her tone had changed from the severe snapping command she had used when the Fieries had been misbehaving. Now it was a soft, sensual croon full of compassion.

Salem sniffed the air again. He'd been smelling something ever since Jareth and his new family had begun arriving in his and Cole's chamber, and although he'd thought at first that the scent belonged to the Fieries, a quick survey of their lot told him that it did not. He rose and walked away just as Delvira had been reaching to grasp his paw and kiss it.

Salem surveyed the charred remains of the girl. She seemed vaguely familiar but was too badly burned for him to be able to put a paw on her identity. "What happened?" he asked softly, the tip of his tail twitching and his unblinking, green eyes taking in every inch of the damage. His stomach churned, and a tremble passed, unseen by his subjects, underneath his ebony fur. It had been a long time since he'd seen damage such as this!

"She our sis sis, Kingie Two," one of the younger Fieries spoke. "You heal her pweeease?"

Salem inclined his head in a nod. "I shall do what I can." His tail swished as he contemplated the situation. He could no longer work magic, but he still knew his spells of old. He turned to Jareth. "Rise, the both of you. Jareth, you are to stay with me. The rest of you must leave for we must have absolute concentration and not be interrupted no matter the cost. Once the spell has begun, any disturbance could prove to be dire to the girl's health."

* * *

Brown eyes opened in the darkness, and the young woman looked across the one-room house to where her younger sister was finally fast asleep. She rose from her bed and moved with all the quiet grace and stealth of a cat to the door and straight through it without ever opening the door. She stood alone on the porch and gazed out into the night. She walked to the nearest post, wrapped her arms around it, and leaned against the hard wood as she listened intently.

"Coo?" asked a small voice as her best friend settled onto her shoulder.

"There's no howling, 'Heed," Kitty spoke quietly. "That's not like them."

"Coo?"

"They couldn't be done so soon," Kitty answered with a shake of her head. "Not them. They'll be going all night."

"Coo."

"I know he can take care of himself, but I'm his daughter. It's my right to worry."

"Coo."

Kitty's brown eyes cut sideways at the small, purple dragon perched on top of her shoulder. "That's different. Jubie's too young for these kinds of worry. She needs her rest."

"Don't mean I can sleep any better," the girl in question spoke up.

Kitty glanced back at her little sister with a slightly teasing grin. "You're getting too quiet."

"No," Jubilee countered, "you're getting too slow." She stuck her tongue out at her sister.

Kitty laughed and pulled her baby sister into her arms, squishing her blue doll between their chests. Jubilee sighed and laid her head against Kitty's shoulder. "What are we gonna do, Kitty? Somethin's wrong."

"What makes you think that, pumpkin?"

Jubilee's nose scrunched in distaste. "Don't call me that. Only Pop gets to call me that. Where is he, Kitty? They're not howling, so why isn't he home yet?"

"I don't know," Kitty admitted with a soft sigh, "but we both know he's the best there is at what he does."

"Yeah, yeah," Jubilee muttered in agreement, "and what he does . . . "

" . . . ain't pretty," the girls spoke in unison.

"He'll be back in the morning," Kitty assured her.

"But why's he so quiet now?"

"I don't know." She paused as her ears caught a faint howl off in the distance. "See. There he is now."

Jubilee shot her a look that could have slayed. "Don't," she told her angrily. "I know that ain't Wolvy. That's just a wolf, not our Wolveroonie."

Kitty sighed and hung her head. "I'm sorry, Jubes. I don't know where he is, but he'll be back." Holding her hand, she led her back into the house. "He'll wake us up in the morning, you'll see, but the sooner we go to bed, the sooner he'll get here."

"He ain't Santa Claus," Jubilee shot irritably.

"No," Kitty agreed, laying down on her own cot, "he's way better."

Jubilee smiled. "Yeah." She laid down. "I still say we oughta go lookin' for him."

"And you know how pissed he'll be when we ride up on him and Creed and he's fine."

Jubilee shrugged. She knew Kitty was right, but she also knew that something was wrong with their father. It was a feeling that twisted her gut and refused to be ignored, and Wolveroonie had always taught them to follow their gut instincts.

"We'll go looking at first light. Promise. Now try to get some sleep, okay?"

"'k," Jubilee murmured, curling up into a tight ball on her cot and clinging to her little, blue doll.

Lockheed circled over Kitty three times before landing on her side and curling in to sleep. He looked at his mistress with a soft puff of air escaping his dragon lungs as she sighed softly again. She stroked him as she continued to watch Jubilee, waiting for her to fall asleep so that she could go looking for Logan. She knew something was wrong, but whatever it was, if it was something he couldn't handle, Jubes definitely did not need to become involved in it. She was too young for such adventuring, and yet, Kitty mused, as sleep tugged at her tired mind, it hadn't been that long ago that she'd argued with Wolvy and Sabes both that she herself wasn't too young for living the lifestyle they had all chosen . . . All, that was, until Sabes had walked away from them. Why, she wondered for the thousandth time, had he chosen to turn yellow and walk away? She didn't know yet, but she had a feeling that Wolvy did and wasn't telling any one. She wondered if that reason, whatever it might be, could have anything to do with why he wasn't home yet and why the night was far too quiet.

Jubilee kept her eyes shut beneath her sister's watchful gaze. She knew she was waiting for her to doze off so that she could go look for their father alone, but it wasn't happening. She'd wait until Kitty fell asleep, and then she'd go off, find Wolveroonie, and rescue him as she'd done so many times before. She wondered what had happened and what part Creed played in it. They couldn't trust him any more after he'd turned coat on them, but she knew that Wolvy would always have a soft spot for Creed, no matter what he did to him. Her hands curled into tight fists, and small lights danced along her knuckles. If he'd hurt him, she swore silently, she'd fry his ass. She just had to wait for Kitty to fall asleep . . .

* * *

A deep rumbling filled Logan as their swords worked together to make beautiful music where none had been before. He felt the crescendo only seconds away and tried to hold his own as the tides of love strived to drown him. His nails began to rake Vic's back and he tried not to unsheathe his claws as the music continued building until Logan could no longer feel his own heartbeat! It was no longer a solitary dance but a dual partnership, both striving to please the other and their hearts beating as one.

The flames rose higher until he could no longer even think. Then he touched a finger to Vic's lower back at the base of his ass, and he surged forward into Logan, his hips grinding madly against Logan's. At that added touch, Logan lost it. He felt himself shooting over the top of the highest mountain he had ever seen, holding tightly to Vic so that he would not lose him ever again... He screamed out Vic's name as he joyously exploded into millions of fiery stars and was barely aware of Victor howling his name in return...

* * *

"COCO!" Ezra bolted from his place at the top of the staircase and ran to his friend. In one deft move, he rolled through the impending Supernatural forces, grasped the guns, picked them up, and fired. One bullet sailed into the head of a Vampire at the right end of the hall; the other into the wing of a harpy.

"You!" screeched a Vampiress, her black claws that had once been fingernails stretching toward the three blonde woman. "You must be the Spellmans! We will leave you alive if you give us Salem!"

Angel had been very busily making his way up the stairs to where he had last seen Coco disappear. He had dusted several Vamps, but they just kept coming. There seemed to be two for every one he had killed. He tried to stay in control of his brain, but the blood smell was driving him crazy. Suddenly, he vamped out just as he reached the top of the stairs.

A Werewolf jumped on his back, and Angel yanked him over his head and bit his neck out. Blood spattered everywhere. Angel threw the body at a group rushing the stairs, knocking them to the floor. Then he turned and headed up the rest of the stairs.

Just as he reached the top, one of three blondes turned a Werewolf's head into flowers. The Werewolf hit the floor and lay still. It had barely missed hitting a guy firing two derringers simultaneously. Spying Coco, Angel got down on all fours and crawled forward until he reached him. Angel was still vamped out as he gazed down into Coco's eyes and saw the glazed look. He slowly returned to himself and began to check Coco's heart for a beat.

Scooping Coco up, Angel pushed open a door that was slightly ajar. This put him in a room full of screaming women. He called out Coco's name again just in time for some one to hit him in the back of the head with a very hard object. He slumped to the floor, falling upon Coco's prone body, just as he heard some of the monsters outside calling for Salem.

* * *

Hansel was still petting Tonto and thanking him for working so hard and being so smart as to begin their rescue when the horse inhaled a scent that made him throw his head back and whinny sharply. Hansel's eyes filled with terror. "FAITH!" he cried. What was his sister doing here, and what had happened to her that Tonto cried out her name in terror? Tonto whinnied again, and Hansel's heart went cold. "NO!" he cried and then sprang onto the pinto's back. He gave the pain of his sword striking the horse's back no attention as he reached down for Jack. "WE'VE GOTTA GO! NOW!"

Leaping up behind Hansel, Jack held on tightly, worry flooding his mind. He prayed that Faith was not dead as he knew it would break his love's heart. Jack had been impressed by her bravery in saving the Indian child, and had been looking forward to getting to know her. Tonto flew on wings of fear and Jack on wings of hope and prayer while Hansel held on and prayed for his sister's life a second time that night. Could they save her?

* * *

Will was quickly but carefully making his way up the Pearl's riggings when he felt something drop onto his head. He raised a hand and touched his brown hair upon which the liquid had splashed. He looked at his hand, and terror caught at his heart at the sight of blood. "No . . . " he whispered chokingly a split moment before Gibbs began to scream.

Will looked up and saw Jack had fallen. "NO!" he repeated, and as his heart began to pound like a drum call to war, he forgot about his precautions and the fact that this man should not mean much at all to him yet even as a friend. He grabbed the nearest rope and swung upwards as he had done when he'd been a boy. Landing on a higher beam, he grabbed another rope and swung again. He repeated the maneuver until he was almost to Jack.

Will's boots barely stayed on the narrow beam as he turned around to face Jack lying so still. "JACK!" Thoughts whirled through his mind while emotions filled his heart. Terror for this man's fate gripped him. Compassion howled within him. And yet, too, there were sorrow and another niggling emotion that he neither recognized nor could have dared to name at that moment so soon even if he had known it. "JACK!"

He couldn't be dead! Will thought frantically as he ran to him. In that moment, the only reason that he cared to keep from falling was because he knew Gibbs would never reach the fallen Pirate in time. He'd yearned many times to put an end to his own suffering over the years since he'd lost his family, but he'd never dared to do it, instead pushing himself ever onward in search of bringing retribution to his loved ones' murderers. Jack's love was gone, and he could never return him to him - even though, in a fact so bizarre that Will's mind was still having trouble clutching it as truth, he had been the lover, not he himself but this world's Will.

Gibbs needed Jack, and in a flash that he dared not investigate further, something deep within Will warned that he, too, needed the Pirate who was Captain to a ship of which only his father should be Captain. "JACK!" he called again, and then he screamed his name. "JACK!" Jack was slipping off of the board, but Will dropped to his knees and caught his legs just before he could fall through the air to that which he sought so desperately: his own death . . .

* * *

From far away, Trent could hear his beloved's tender voice calling to him. He hurt like Hell all over but kept listening to the beautiful voice that called him away from a light so bright that it hurt his eyes. A disembodied voice told him, "It's not your time, my son! Your destiny lies before you! Do not fear to take whom you wish. He calls for you even now. Return, live, and love!"

The light faded, and Trent could feel Carlos' tears on his face. He knew it was him! He knew the touch he longed for more then breathing. Who was the being so full of light? he wondered even as the memories faded and he opened his eyes and moved just the slightest bit so that his lips were close to Carlos'. "Live and love!" echoed in his mind, and he moved so that he could lean up just a little and capture the lips that had been calling him forever.

* * *

The lithe, blonde man dressed entirely in black slipped into the cave and peered around him in the dark. He'd smelled the fresh blood a good hundred feet before he'd reached the cave, but he thankfully was no longer hungry that night after having dined well on the blood of his enemies. His fangs glistened in the shadows, however, as he looked down upon the sleeping innocent with a dangerous smile curving his black lips.

Addamm always did have a way of bringing pups home with him, the Vampire reflected. He closed his eyes and inhaled the luscious scent of blood assailing from the youth. It wasn't just his own, he noted with slight curiosity. There was his own fresh blood that told the Vampire the boy had just lost his virginity that very night, but yet there was also older blood upon him, stronger, bolder, and with just a whiff of familiarity.

His dark eyes opened, and he looked down at the sleeping lad. If the dried blood belonged to the woman he was thinking of, she'd handle whatever had attacked her and the boy herself and make it spill all of its blood or its dinner, whichever the case was. He leaned closer, taking a deeper intake of the delicious scent of fresh blood, and his tongue started to flick out between his fangs.

**To Be Continued . . . **

Authors' Note: The song Carlos and Sean sing is "Like The Rain" and belongs to Clint Black and any other rightful owners, none of whom are ourselves.


End file.
